Twisted Torture
by beautifully-rational
Summary: Drugged on the side of the road and taken to a remote place where no one can find you? It's only natural you're prone to things that aren't actually real. RATED T FOR GRAPHIC MATERIAL. Major Doctor!Whump. COMPLETE.
1. Misled

_**A/N: Hello readers. This story is going to contain lots of graphic material so I'm warning you now. I'd call it an excuse for Doctor whump. xD I've read plenty of fics like this and I've always wanted to try my hand at one. So here's my take. The introduction is pretty long, standing at 3600 words. I'd like to know what you all think before I continue, and if the whole plot is relatively plausible and makes sense. So please - the review box doesn't bite. :)**_

_**Please enjoy, and yes, read on at your own risk.**_

* * *

_And in the end, we all give into our fears._

He'd told them he'd just be a moment. He'd told them he was just going to go for a quick walk to grab some fresh air. Dinner with Martha's family had been quite nice – Francine had fixed up a nice meal with roast chicken, steamed vegetables and baked potatoes. The Doctor had found himself drawing in on old memories about Rose. He'd eaten Christmas dinner with Rose's family after he regenerated, and it was the first time he'd eaten at another person's house. As he slowly ate, surrounded by Martha's family, he couldn't stop thinking about Rose. And so he told them quietly he was going to get some fresh air.

He'd been about five minutes into his walk when he noticed a van pull up on the side of the road. Of course, being the Doctor, a van pulling up wasn't worth a second glance. He had more important things to worry about. But when someone came up from behind him and covered his mouth and nose with a scented handkerchief and his vision began to fade, he knew – oh, he knew – he should have given that van a second glance.

Back at Martha's house, it had been half an hour since the Doctor had moved out of the front door claiming he was going for a quick walk to clear his head. Martha had decided to push him no further than that – he usually got what he wanted, and now was probably not the right place to remind him it was rude to leave in the middle of a meal.

But it Martha was sure, incredibly positively sure, 'quick walks' do not tend to last for half an hour. She hadn't heard the TARDIS leave – by the gods she'd recognise that sound within a million miles – and as a matter of fact, as she went to check, it was still parked on her lawn. She knocked twice, calling his name to see if he was inside. When he didn't answer her calls she scrambled for her TARDIS key, which she kept around her neck, and then went inside. And still, he was nowhere to be found. So where on Earth had the Timelord gotten to? She couldn't even be sure if he was still _on_ Earth…

She'd moved back to the table after that, trying to hide the worry she so much wanted to express on her face. After an hour questions started to rise up – all of them directed at poor Martha Jones – and she didn't know quite how to answer them. Another hour later – which marked two hours since the Doctor had gone for a 'quick walk' – after the table had been cleared and the washing up done, that was when Martha decided to go and check the backyard again to make sure the TARDIS was actually there.

To her uttermost disappointment – since, well, if the TARIDS was gone that meant Doctor would have gone with it, meaning he was safe – the TARDIS still stood idly on the grass. She once again chose to move inside, just to make sure he wasn't playing games with her. The console room showed no signs that the Doctor had been in, since usually he'd throw his trench-coat onto one of the supporting struts around the outside, or he'd been sitting in the captain's chair, tinkering with whatever he could get his hands on.

There was no Doctor. And Martha knew the Doctor never went anywhere without his TARDIS.

* * *

The next morning, the phone ringing on Captain Jack Harkness's desk distracted him from reading the rift activity from last night. He'd just sat down with the printouts Gwen had handed him a couple of minutes ago. Sighing to himself and throwing the printouts onto the desk, he picked it up.

"Jack. It's Martha." He got an immediate sentence from the other end of the line.

"Hello my Nightingale, how's things?" Jack greeted her.

He was sitting in his chair at his considerably messy desk with his feet up on the mass of paper and one hand rubbing the back of his head, now.

"Is the Doctor over at the Hub with you?" Martha asked him through the phone.

Martha, on the other hand, was sitting nervously at the kitchen table at her house. She was turning the TARDIS key – the Doctor still hadn't taken it off her – over in her hand, hoping it could give her some answers.

"No – what business does he have over here?" Jack asked. "He knows we can handle rift activity just fine by ourselves." He said with a smug laugh.

"It's not that, Jack." Martha told him. "The Doctor came over to my house for dinner last night." She began to explain.

"He had _dinner_?" Jack interrupted sharply with another laugh. "Is he ill, or something? The Doctor always hated being domestic." He was still laughing after he'd finished his sentence.

"He's gone, Jack." Martha stated heavily. "He went outside to grab some fresh air, and then didn't return."

"What do you mean he's gone?" Jack took his feet off the desk abruptly and sat up straighter. "He wouldn't just dematerialize in the middle of a meal – he has standards." Jack stated.

"The TARDIS is still in my backyard." Martha corrected him. "He went for a walk to clear his head and never came back." She repeated herself, and this time, Jack seemed to understand where she was coming from.

"How long has it been since he went?" Jack asked.

"We had dinner last night, and now it's the morning after." Martha told him. "So about twelve or thirteen hours ago." She realized that may have been a long stretch to leave the Doctor missing.

"Why didn't you inform me sooner?" Jack exclaimed irritably. "He could be anywhere by now!" Jack stopped when he realized he'd been almost shouting. "Sorry, Martha – didn't mean to shout." He apologized quietly to the would-be doctor.

"It's okay." Martha responded, her voice just as quiet. "I understand you're worried about him." She paused to steady her voice. "I'm equally worried something's happened to him." She said lightly.

"I'm coming down to your house." Jack told Martha suddenly. "If the roads are clear it'll take me an hour or two at most." The line went dead.

Jack wrote a quick note on the back of one of the many pieces of paper on his desk and stuck it to the computer screen. He waved a quick goodbye to the hub's occupants as he made his way upstairs. Martha, back at her house, put the phone down on the table and moved outside to check the TARDIS for the seventh time this morning.

* * *

Miles away, it was incredibly dark. But that didn't stop him from knowing where he was. He was in a van – probably the same van from outside Martha's house – and could tell by the engines as it drove along. Then judging by the vibrations of the metal around him, they were going quite fast. But where were they going? What did they need with him? He was also most annoyed that they'd resorted to restraining him. His arms were cuffed behind his back and he was pretty sure he was blindfolded – he couldn't tell if the darkness in the van was causing the dark, or the fact he was now visually impaired was.

He was getting thrown around quite a bit, too. The people who had put him in here hadn't taken to tying him down, so every time a corner was turned, he was thrown from side to side. He couldn't feel the presence of the sonic screwdriver in his suit pocket either. Even if he did have the sonic to open the doors, there was no way he could reach it while he was cuffed like this, anyway. Another thing that bothered him was the fact the TARDIS wasn't nearby. He could still feel her comforting existence in the back of his mind, but it was distant and slowly diminishing as the van sped along.

Hours later – his internal clock told him it had been seven hours, thirteen minutes and thirty-seven seconds – the van came to a stop. That meant he'd been in the back of the van for exactly twelve hours, twenty-seven minutes and fifty-eight seconds. That was an alarming amount of time.

The doors opened suddenly, and the Doctor had to close his eyes from the fierceness of the light outside. He had confirmed he wasn't blindfolded, at least. Two pairs of hands grabbed him around the shoulders and pulled him outside. His feet hit the ground and he stumbled, not used to being upright. He still kept his eyes closed, afraid of damaging his vision from the change of brightness, as he was walked – more like pushed – by two people.

Eventually, he dared to peek his eyes open a little to see where he was. It would have been the smart thing to do. If you've been kidnapped, it would be an advantage to know where you'd been kidnapped _to_, just in case you happen to escape and need picking up by someone.

In front of him was a fairly abandoned-looking warehouse. They were in the middle of nowhere, which made it even better. The drive had been to a very unattractive downtown of some British city he'd never heard the name of. But why here? There are plenty of abandoned warehouses in downtown London to kidnap him to.

Throughout the brief walk the Doctor kept his eyes on the ground. His vision was still adjusting to the brightness of outside from the darkness of the van. He wasn't spoken to either. If he slowed down just in the slightest he'd be jabbed in the side with something that felt horribly familiar to a handheld pistol. If he turned his head to see the appearance of his captors, he'd be jabbed in the back with something that again felt like to a handheld pistol.

Inside was considerably cooler to outside – it also smelt far better, outside smelt like diesel engines – but it was considerably brighter. He was lead down many flights of stairs, until he was thrown into a room, un-cuffed, and left alone. He took this opportunity to gather himself. He could now see properly and could stand without stumbling, but this room was ever so boring to look at. It was a white room with a white door – the white door had a small, rectangular window fitted in the top.

Curious, the Doctor – still with sore wrists; he was rubbing them to calm the irritation of the handcuffs – moved over to the door. He could just peer out the window by being on his toes. He cursed the fact his previous incarnation was taller and could have seen out the window with much less difficulty. Outside was dimly lit, but the Doctor could just make a few things. There was a bench lined with many medical machines you'd only find in a human hospital. There were various other doors outside as well, but what interested the Timelord most was the trolley closest to the door. It had ten to twenty syringes all lined up. Each syringe contained a different colour sedative – maybe they weren't even sedatives – and the needle on each looked threating sharp. The whole setup reminded him of the hospital he'd met Martha in.

The Doctor realized he'd disappeared in the middle of the Jones' family meal. He cursed himself again for not being so attentive to the van on his walk. He'd just wanted to grab some fresh air, since the domestic dinner was reminding him too much of Rose. He'd agreed to have Christmas dinner with the Tyler's and Rose's ex-boyfriend Mickey. He hadn't eaten in a house before that, and he told himself sternly that it would be the last time. But yet he'd let himself succumb to Martha's pleading and gone to her house for a 'thank-you-for-bringing-my-daughter-home' roast by Francine.

Now Martha was probably panicking. It had been thirteen hours or so now since he'd been in London, just outside her house. Hopefully she'd contact UNIT or Jack and Torchwood – they'd be able to find him here. He felt bad for leaving her in the middle of the meal Francine had so nicely prepared. He also reminded himself he was hungry by thinking about the meal from last night he didn't get to finish.

His mind then wandered to why he was here. He wouldn't be transported for thirteen hours just to sit in a room and watch the small corridor outside through the window he struggled to reach. The needles outside still got him wondering if he was a test subject in a secret government hospital. It was a far-fetched assumption, but still, all things considered it was entirely reasonable. The other rooms could easily hold other people or aliens and they were being tested. Yet the Doctor would happily consent to some simple testing for people on Earth, so why kidnap him somewhere so remote to test?

The Doctor moved away from the window and decided to sit himself down. He couldn't escape without the sonic. There was nothing he could tinker with to get the door open, which meant he was stuck here until Martha, UNIT or Torchwood found him. It was a depressing thought – being stuck in an apparent hospital with no one to talk to. He decided to close his eyes for a little while to pass the time. There was nothing else to do.

* * *

_**Four months later …**_

_Crack. _

"S-seventeen."

_Crack._

"Eighteen."

_Crack._

"Ugh… N-nineteen."

_Crack._

"Twenty…"

His body struck the floor with a heavy thump. He struggled to keep his eyes open. He knew if he passed out it would only mean more pain. He pressed his palms to the ground again to pick himself up. His arms gave way from underneath him halfway up and he fell to the ground once more.

"That's enough." The professor said. "I have seen what I need to know for today."

The cuffs were reattached and the three men left the room – two of the men were the ones that did the torturing and the other man – the professor – always took notes. They would whip him, electrocute him, cut him, bruise him, beat him, break him, and kick him – the list goes on.

The different forms of torture went over the course of two days. The first day, the professor would choose one type of torture and get the two men to inflict it on him. Once the man had seen enough, he would order the men to stop and the Doctor would be left alone to recover from whatever had been imposed on him. The second day, he would be injected with a type of medication and have the exact same torture done to him again.

Today they'd whipped him with the medication. The whip had opened up the scabs from yesterday, which meant he was bleeding twice as much. Timelords healed faster than humans, but lately, even that fact had been challenged. The Doctor was certain the professor was trying to slow down his healing processes to human. He had no idea why the professor was trying to slow his remedial progress, and he liked to find the sedative the professor was mixing wouldn't be used against him later on. He could also use it on humans. It could completely shut down their healing to zero, which would be absolutely fatal.

But why test it on him? Why kidnap him from the safety of London to the downtown of a remote city just to torture him? If these people wanted him dead, they could have easily gunned him down on the street that night. He'd always assumed they were testing it on him just because he _had_ accelerated healing. If they would have tested it on a human, it would have killed them since they would have no healing. That's what he'd always thought. He was probably right. He was usually right about these things.

He'd learned not to chat back as well. At first he'd gotten cheeky with them, but it would only earn him a backhand across the face. These men never spoke to him. In his three months here he'd never been looked at, spoken to, touched… He was completely isolated. No one had come for him. He knew not to lose faith in the people who cared about him – he knew it deep down – but the pain of solitude was slowly creeping in and driving all the care out. Sometimes he felt angry at his friends for reasons he couldn't explain and he felt guilty immediately afterwards.

* * *

It wasn't until five months into his captivity that he finally shattered. Today was supposed to be a needle day. Only one man had come in that morning – and it wasn't the professor – which was most unusual. He had no needles with him either, which meant he possibly wasn't getting attacked today.

"Your friends haven't come for you." The first sentence came out like a rehearsed speech.

Those were the first words which had been spoken to the Doctor unswervingly. He didn't respond – he knew talking earned him a backhand across the face.

"Martha Jones obviously doesn't care about you." The man kneeled so he was level with the Doctor.

The Doctor was in the corner of his room, propped up against the walls. He couldn't sit up by himself any more. He could barely stand as it was. He was frail now – he was barely given any food or water.

"You were plucked off the street in plain view of so many people. Why didn't anyone see? You disappeared in the middle of a family dinner. Why didn't anybody notice?"

The Doctor was certain Martha would have noticed he was gone. She would. But she wasn't here… She would have found him by now if she knew.

"No." The Doctor told himself aloud, and then clamped his eyes shut, realizing his mistake of speaking – especially since it seemed in defiance to the man in front of him.

"Oh… you can deny it all you want." He continued to taunt without backhanding him. "They never cared about you. They always travelled with you to see the stars. They never travelled to be with you. They _used_ you." The Doctor could feel the man's breath on his face, and he kept his eyes shut.

But was he right? Was Martha travelling with him because she was tired of being on Earth? Did she even care about him? Would she care if he left? Would she care if he _died_?

"We've torn you to pieces here, Doctor." The man continued. "Where has Martha been? She isn't _here_ for you. No one is ever here for _you_. No one _cares_ about you. No one ever has." The man started to laugh in the middle of his well-practiced speech.

That was when the gunshot rang out. A thump from outside announced that someone had been shot dead. The man sprung to his feet and turned to face the door, gun raised, leaving the Doctor to ponder what was going on.

Maybe it was the professor testing his sedative on humans. And he was using a gun to inflict the death blow.

Another gun shot and a yell of pain from outside.

Maybe the other man and the professor had had a dispute and were fighting it out with bullets. Maybe…

A body hit the wall and slid down outside.

Maybe Martha had found him. But she'd abandoned him… She left him here to be _tortured_ by these three men. She hadn't _found_ him… He'd been in this bloodstained room for five _months_ and she hadn't _found_ him…

The man in front of the Doctor fired his gun and the Doctor covered his ears. Someone returned the shot and the man fell against the wall, clutching his shoulder. The gun of the shot down man fell at the Doctor's feet.

"Doctor…?"

The Doctor peeled his eyes away from the gun and looked up at the doorway. And there she was. The woman who had abandoned him. Martha Jones. She was looking at the walls, stained with red and brown. The Doctor felt himself reach for the gun at his feet.

"We were so worried about you…" She began to move closer to the exhausted Timelord.

The Doctor gripped the gun between his fingers, and then with all his strength, raised it at Martha. It took a lot of energy to hold it steady, but he managed. The would-be-doctor froze on the spot.

"Doctor…" She said comfortingly. "It's me – Martha." She pointed at herself to show it was her. "Me and Jack are here to rescue you." She still continued to approach. "We don't want to hurt you…"

"Y-you abandoned m-me." The Doctor struggled to keep the gun aimed at her, and this time, he wasn't afraid of being backhanded.

"Whatever lies they've twisted you to believe, Doctor, I can tell you – "

"I w-was here the whole t-t-time." He was trying to stop himself from stuttering. "Y-you never found me."

"We were searching the whole time…"

"N-no."

"No?"

"No."

"What do you mean 'no'?"

"No."

The Doctor cocked the gun at Martha's chest and pulled the trigger.


	2. Rescue

_**A/N: Hello again people who are reading this story! Welcome to chapter two. This one is pretty long as well. I'm quite proud of the length of these chapters so far. xD This chapter will include yet again more doctor whump (though it's more emotional than physical this time) and some Torchwood characters. I haven't actually watched Torchwood myself (but I'm getting there xD) so excuse if the characters are a little out of place.**_

_**I have to say it took me a while to get this right and I'm still not one hundred perfect happy with the outcome. I wanted to get it out here asap since I got a heap of positive reviews. So yes, tell me what you guys think. :) And thanks for reading! And reviewing, and favourting and following. It's always good to see you're enjoying what I'm producing.**_

* * *

_Emotional torture is the worst kind of torture; you can never distinguish the truth from the lies any more and you're left doubting the world as if it is a badly written book._

_- **Unknown**_

* * *

_**Two days earlier …**_

Martha Jones was sitting in the Torchwood Hub, nursing her own cup of coffee. Jack had almost finished his in the chair next to her. They were five months into the search for the Doctor now and still they had come across nothing useful.

"Did we check Glade Street?" Jack questioned.

"Last week." Martha answered him with a yawn.

With the help of Toshiko and Ianto, Jack had managed to reprogram his vortex manipulator to show the life signs of a person with two hearts. Luckily for them, the Doctor was the only person on Earth with two hearts.

"Smith Avenue?" The immortal man continued.

"We did that one in May." She remembered driving up and down that street three of four times because Jack thought he'd come across something on the machine, but it had only been a blip.

The job was pretty simple – drive up and down every possible street there was and watch the vortex manipulator for life signs. They were bargaining on the fact the Doctor was still alive, however. Martha kept reminding herself he wouldn't have been kidnapped if they wanted him dead.

"Ianto's almost finished the transmitter, so that means we can expand the radius of the scan." Jack reminded Martha positively.

"He could be anywhere, though." Martha said with a sigh. "He could be in America for all we know." She knew even that was a possibility by now.

Jack sighed heavily. The immortal man didn't say anything after that.

Martha hadn't even heard from UNIT since the three month mark – she couldn't even be sure if they were still participating. They had allowed her to read over the archives on him and she'd found out some pretty interesting things, but none were useful in the search. Both Torchwood and UNIT had agreed that it was almost certainly a human organization which would have taken him, since the TARDIS hadn't been taken along with the Doctor. Usually all the Doctor was wanted for by aliens was his time machine.

"I'm going to go see the TARDIS again." Martha announced suddenly, getting to her feet and leaving her coffee at the desk.

"Want earmuffs?" Jack said half-jokingly, half seriously. "And a torch?" He added with a small laugh.

Martha ignored him as she slipped her TARDIS key into the lock on the door. He was right to suggest those things – the TARDIS had been acting up about a week into the search. She seemed to have realized the Doctor was missing. The usually relatively bright lighting was dimmed so low you could barely see your feet on the ground, and the peaceful background hum had been turned into an unpleasant, high-pitched whine. Martha made her way up to the console once she was inside. She found the captain's chair and plonked down in it, trying to ignore the whining as much as possible.

"You could be useful, you know." Martha found herself talking to the machine. "The Doctor told me you two had a telepathic link." She recalled him telling her that on New Earth when she demanded he'd tell her about himself.

The lighting seemed to flicker slightly - it was as if it got brighter for a brief second, but then darkened once again.

"Rather than sitting here whining you could help us." She continued.

The lights didn't flicker again at that statement, and the high-pitched humming didn't stop either. Martha, now annoyed at the machine for its lack of contribution, picked herself up off the captain's chair and laid both hands on the console. She hung her head and uttered a heavy sigh.

When she raised her head to look at the console again, she was most surprised to find it wasn't there. Instead she was standing… No – she wasn't even standing. Where was she?

"And _you're_ not very useful sitting on those computers reading up on his antiquity." Someone said spitefully.

"Hello?" Martha called. "Who's there?" She was weary she was calling out to an empty room.

"You asked me to help, I thought?" The voice continued.

It was almost as if it was inside her head, and the words weren't being spoken at all. She was only hearing them because they were being projected to her mind. And then she realized.

"You're the TARDIS?" Martha queried. "I thought only the Doctor was linked to you?" She expressed, again recalling the conversation in the alleyway.

"You're not linked to me." Martha couldn't decide whether the voice was male of female – it seemed to vary from one to the other as she thought more about it. "You're touching the console right now, and so I'm speaking to you through that physical link." The TARDIS amended.

There were so many things Martha didn't know about the Doctor and the TARDIS, and this was certainly one of them. Never before had the Doctor mentioned anything like this – being in contact with the time machine – and she wondered if the Doctor even knew it was possible.

Reading her mind the TARDIS began, "It was always an honour to be spoken to by TARDIS which is not your own." That made Martha smile. "You are right in believing myself and the Doctor have a telepathic link – he can speak with me without physical contact."

"You're able to speak with him now?" Martha apprehended eagerly.

"Unfortunately not." Came the reply she didn't want to hear. "He is too far away." The TARDIS sounded almost sad as it uttered that statement. "The link would be stronger if time wasn't so nigh when he chose me."

"If you can't help, then why give the rare honour to me?" Martha asked, trying at her least to sound courteous.

"Because I know where he is."

Martha was then standing back in the console room, her head pounding with images and the coordinates and address to where she needed to be. She fell back into the captain's chair, feeling dazed from the mental confrontation. How was she going to explain this to Jack? The TARDIS had just _spoken_ to her. The TARDIS only ever spoke to the Doctor and now it seemed Martha was some wonderful exception to the rule.

She realized that she should tell Jack everything before it slipped her mind and became some extraneous piece of information she needed badly but – even as she racked her brains day and night – couldn't get to it. Martha picked herself up off the chair and strode towards the door, giving the TARDIS a huge mental thanks as she descended the stairs.

She moved up to Jack, who was still tapping away on the computer, eyes lazily darting from line to line. He gave her a quick glance of acknowledgement, and then went back to reading.

After taking a few breaths to steady herself for Jack's reaction, Martha said unwaveringly, "I know where he is."

"You _what_?" Jack asked sharply, snapping his attention fully onto her.

"I know where the Doctor is." She repeated.

"How did you…?" The immortal man trailed off to run a hand through his hair, and then asked,

"Where is he?"

"Three hundred and eighty-seven Elwick Road in Hartlepool." Martha recited. "That's about nine or ten hours away." She added favourably.

"You can tell me on the way." Jack stated as he got up. "If I enter the address into the vortex manipulator it should lead us right to him." He thought aloud as he gathered a couple of things – Martha particularly watched him as he picked up his handgun.

Minutes later they'd hopped into Jack's car and were driving to Hartlepool. Jack was driving, – it _was _his car –Martha was riding shotgun and Owen and Gwen had tagged along for support. Martha had expressed the fact the Doctor may need medical attention on site, so Owen had immediately piped up with his kit and hopped in the car with them. Gwen claimed they might need someone to charge in, so of course, she was happily welcomed by both Jack and Owen. Ianto was to stay behind and hold down the hub while they were gone.

Jack sped off the second people were strapped down. Martha hadn't realized the time – her watch read four thirty in the morning. It was now starting to get light. She'd been couped up in the Hub for four months now, only leaving to grab some food and occasionally meet up with her family. She had left a couple of times as well to go to UNIT headquarters, but now it seemed UNIT had indirectly withdrawn so she had no use in visiting them anymore.

"Enlighten us, Martha." Jack began, not far into the journey. "How can you be so certain the Doctor is in Hartlepool?"

"The TARDIS." She replied. "I was in the TARDIS – just checking to make sure he wasn't there." Martha had gone and checked the TARDIS many times a day just in case the whole ordeal turned out to be a practical joke or the Timelord had gotten lost in the many corridors somehow. "I got frustrated since the TARDIS wasn't helping us." That earned her a snort from Owen. "The Doctor always said it was telepathic and they were always linked together, wherever they were. I ended up touching the console after I didn't get a reply, and then suddenly I was floating in this sea of nothingness." Martha struggled to explain were the TARDIS had taken her to.

She paused in her explanation to think of a way to explain where she was.

"It was like an abyss." She said eventually. "Only without the falling and it wasn't dark – it was a very bright white." She elaborated. "I wasn't even standing; I was just _there_." She threw her hands up to show she didn't know how to explain. "It told me that it couldn't communicate with the Doctor directly now because he was too far away, but it could tell where he was." She paused and looked out the front windscreen. "So here we are."

"What if he isn't there?" Gwen asked.

"I know he's there because the TARDIS was so certain of it." Martha replied. "It gave me the full address and everything." She paused for a second, and then remembered their adventure on a jungle-thick planet. "The Doctor always said he could find his way back to the TARDIS even if it was parked three million light-years away. So the connection probably works the other way around as well, just the TARDIS can't communicate with other people as easy." Martha finished.

"And it'll be a long drive home." Jack added discreetly, which earned a laugh from everyone in the car.

The rest of the drive was mainly made in silence. Owen fell asleep in the back seat and Gwen gazed out the window for the majority of the trip. Martha was watching the world go by as well, nodding off sleep every now and again, with images of what the Doctor could look like popping into her head. She wondered if he hadn't been abused at all – maybe he was happy with some other family. Considering the fact he'd been gone for long – especially without his beloved TARDIS – everyone knew deep down that was never going to be the case. The fact he was almost certainly kidnapped raised questions to his safety and well-being, hence why Owen was tagging along for medical support. Martha knew the use of the guns – the Torchwood group had decided to bring three or four along – may be necessary, and she'd been quite obliged to refuse when Jack had offered her one before they set off.

When Martha's watch read two forty-eight pm Jack turned the car into Elwick Road. Gwen kicked Owen awake in the backseat and the whole atmosphere in the car seemed to change. It went from anticipation to stiffness – it was as if everyone was afraid of what they would find here. As Jack turned into a dirt road, the vortex manipulator started to beep away wildly, alerting the contents of Jack's car what they already knew – they were here.

The place they had driven all this way for was nothing impressive. Facing the road there was a bungalow, and then as Jack drove further back, there was a very rundown warehouse and various other smaller buildings that looked relatively abandoned. There was no sign of life anywhere on the property.

"Owen, take the two on the right." Jack had pulled up in front of the warehouse and was already giving out orders. "Gwen, take the one on the left." He then looked at Martha and gave her a huge smile. "Nightingale. You're with me." Jack started towards the main warehouse, whereas Gwen and Owen were to investigate the smaller buildings.

"Are you sure it's a good idea to send them off alone?" Martha bought up as Jack loaded his handheld.

"They can take care of themselves, and they know I know that." Jack responded. "I'm not sure what we'll find here, but I can easily guess it won't be pretty." He suddenly had a torch and clicked it on as he stepped inside the underprivileged building.

It was spooky inside. Martha couldn't see her own hands in front of her face without the torchlight either, which added to the whole search theme. The Doctor could be anywhere and the TARDIS hadn't given her any other information aside from the property number and the general location.

"Jack, this is Gwen." The woman's voice made Martha jump. "Building is clear – no one's inside." The search of the smaller building had only taken two or three minutes.

Jack raised his vortex manipulator to his mouth and responded, "Come meet up with us in the bigger warehouse. We're going to need more than two people to explore this one thoroughly."

"I'll be right there." Gwen responded through the vortex manipulator, and then there was no more chatter.

"Jack, I've scouted the two buildings and no one's inside." Seconds later, Owen's voice echoed around the empty building. "Do you want me to wait nearby in case things get ugly?" He asked.

"That'd be good. I've got Gwen coming to help me." Jack responded.

"Give me a call if you need me." Owen finished.

It took five minutes for Gwen to catch up to Jack and Martha. She gave Jack a quick overview of the general layout of the building she had searched and he'd acknowledged it with a brief nod of his head. He only seemed focused on finding the Doctor and seeing if the knowledge Martha was given by the TARDIS was correct. There was nothing that a person could be comfortably hidden away inside the warehouse, and that fact discouraged all three searchers greatly.

That was until Jack's vortex manipulator beeped again to announce there was a Timelord nearby. They stopped in their tracks and shone the torchlight round in a circle. Gwen then discovered they were standing right over a trapdoor in the floor. They were surprised to find it wasn't locked and so they made their way down the set of stairs underneath it. It was lit as they neared the bottom, and so Gwen and Jack put their torches away. They then raised their guns and would jump every time a light flickered or someone stepped a little too heavily.

It was absolutely silent in the dimly lit corridor and Jack was uncomfortable with the fact they'd advanced so far without being spotted. Then Jack started to feel a heap better when a bullet clipped the wall beside where Martha had been standing. Gwen and the immortal man had both recoiled immediately, identifying the shooter as a man up ahead. Martha had a gun but she couldn't bring herself to use it – she was ushered behind Jack by Gwen instead until the man was gunned down.

"There's got to be more." Jack murmured.

His suspicions were confirmed when another man came charging suddenly and grazed Jack squarely in the shoulder with one of his bullets. That had earned the shooter a painful yelp from the immortal man, but he was gunned down by Gwen before he could advance any further.

"You alright, boss?" Gwen inquired.

"Just a graze." He retorted. "I'll be fine." He reassured both women with one of his dazzling smiles.

Martha then looked up to see the end of the corridor in sight. There was a door there, and that door almost certainly confined the Doctor to what had doubtlessly been his home for the past five months.

Martha approached the door with Gwen hot on her heels. Jack was hobbling just behind. She found herself trembling – she didn't know what she'd find before this door. Slowly she pulled it to one side to reveal a bullet just missing her arm. The shot surprised her and she flinched, forgetting the gun in her hand. Instead the shot was returned by Gwen, and the man fell to one side to reveal the frail body which was the Doctor.

"Doctor…?" Martha whispered, taking in all his changed features.

He was propped up away the wall, eyes barely held open. He was staring at the man now withering on the floor in front of him, and then he looked back up at Martha. The remains of his clothes hung in taters and his cheeks were incredibly hollow. His eyes bore into his head like parasites and his hair was just clinging to his forehead.

"We were so worried about you…" Relief swamped her to find him alive and still in one regeneration.

And then suddenly the gun the other man had been holding was in the Doctor's skinny fingers and it was pointing straight at her.

"Doctor…" Martha wasn't sure what had happened to him – he could think she was a hallucination and she was here to hurt him. "It's me – Martha." She pointed at herself to demonstrate that fact. "Me and Jack are here to rescue you." She hoped the name Jack would stimulate the fact she was real, but alas, the gun was still trained on her. "We don't want to hurt you…" She continued to talk gently to him, hoping he'd realize, but instead she got something completely different.

"Y-you abandoned m-me." The gun wavered a little and the Doctor uttered three heart-felt words with a really obvious stutter.

"Whatever lies they've twisted you to believe, Doctor, I can tell you –" Martha was about to explain their unsuccessful search to him, but she was interrupted.

"I w-was here the whole t-time." The stutter seemed to bother the Timelord, but he couldn't seem to stop himself from doing it. "Y-you never found me."

"We were searching the whole time…" Martha began again, hoping she wouldn't get interjected by him again.

"N-no." Was all she got in response with the gun still focused on her.

"No?" Martha questioned his answer.

"No." He said it more firmly this time, without the stutter.

"What do you mean 'no'?" Martha tried to prompt him to explain, but…

"No." He said again, and this time, he almost shouted it.

The next thing Martha Jones knew, there was a loud bang and she was on the other side of the room. Jack had taken her spot in the doorway and was now sprawled on the floor, blood leaking from his chest. Gwen looked stricken from behind the immortal man, but then ran to wrestle the handgun from the Doctor's fingers before he could shoot anyone else.

Martha picked herself up shakily when the Doctor had been restrained by Gwen. She held him by the top of his arms and he struggled even after she'd kicked him a little too hard. He was shouting in a different language – or it was incredibly deformed English; Martha couldn't tell – and was trying desperately to get out of Gwen's hold.

"Did he just…?" Martha looked at now-dead Jack, the restrained Doctor and the gun he'd used to try and shoot her.

"They've messed him up bad." Gwen's comment wasn't really necessary, but Martha knew it was true.

Martha kicked the gun to the other side of the room, and cautiously approached the Doctor. Gwen tightened her hold on him as the would-be-doctor approached and knelt down to see his face. In addition to being noticeably starved, he was injured as well. He had a considerably large bruise under his right eye and three or four cuts on his forehead. Through the tattered remains of his clothing Martha could now also see many more cuts, scabs and just formed scars. And just by looking she could tell one or two of his ribs were broken.

"Did he just fucking try to shoot you?" Jack was back.

Martha didn't answer – she didn't need to answer. Jack already knew the reply.

The Doctor had stopped struggling now but was his breathing was still raspy and deep. His head was lowered to the ground so Martha could no longer see his face. He hung limply in Gwen's constraint but was still conscious.

"What do we do with him?" Gwen asked.

Martha didn't have an answer for that one either.

"I'd say throw him in the trunk till he gathers his senses." Jack muttered.

"He's injured." Martha finally said. "I don't know what they've done to him but he doesn't seem to be healing properly either." She tried her best to ignore their comments – the Doctor was still her friend.

She knew he was unjust to attempt to shoot her, but then again, who could blame him? These people could have twisted him to believe anything over the course of five months and one of those many things could have been the fact Martha Jones was evil. Martha Jones was going to hurt him, and to avoid that happening, he had to make sure she didn't.

"Owen's bringing down a sedative." Jack's voice bought Martha out of her conjectures. "It should knock him out for the drive home." It felt wrong to do this to the injured and degraded Timelord.

"No!" The Doctor cried suddenly, making Martha jump.

He started to fight Gwen's tight grip again but failed miserably.

"Doctor, please, stop struggling." Martha tried to sound calm, but the request came out more like an order. "You're not in the best shape and moving will make it worse." And as if right on cue, Owen walked in, holding his medical kit and a stretcher. "If we do this we promise they will be no more pain for you or anyone else." She tried to compromise with him, but he only struggled harder when he realized Owen was in the room.

Jack went to assist Gwen in holding him down after that, since he was so eager to get away from them. Owen had a syringe ready and was mixing the contents by tapping his finger gently on the glass.

It made Martha feel as if she was the men who shaped the Doctor like this – to have to force inject him with a sedative to stop him from hurting himself or anyone else. But Jack was right – he was going to be too much trouble on the journey back. They could help him later when they were back at the Hub with the proper supplies and set up.

"We're only trying to help Doctor, I promise." Martha was sure that was the last thing he heard before Owen pushed the contents of the needle into the Doctor's arm.

After struggling for another few seconds, he went completely limp. Gwen and Jack released him and he was completely still on the ground.

"I thought a stretcher would come in handy." Owen said quietly, while Jack, Gwen and Martha couldn't tear their gaze away from someone who had once been at the top of the universe.

"I'll take it with Gwen." Jack said. "Martha's seen enough today." He took the stretcher from Owen and rested it on the ground beside the Doctor's frail form.

Gwen and Owen eased the Doctor's body off the ground while Jack slid the stretcher underneath him, and then they were walking back up the hallway very, very slowly and very, very cautiously. Martha suspected Jack was disappointed about what they had to do to the Timelord as well, but if he was, he never expressed it.

Martha sat in the backseat this time with Owen. The medic had decided it was best to lay the Doctor across the seats and prop the stretcher up in the foot well so he if he did fall, he wouldn't fall very far.

Jack had informed Ianto they had the Doctor and would need help when they got back to Cardiff. He told him they'd be back at the Hub around four am.

On the trip back, Martha ended up with the Timelord's head in her lap. She couldn't help but stroke the side of his face gently as they started the long journey back to Cardiff.


	3. First Encounters

_**A/N: Good evening everybody and welcome to the third and so far shortest chapter of my Doctor whump. This chapter is a little bit fluffy and again I'm not one hundred percent happy about the finished product (I just want to get it out there for audience feedback - haha). This chapter will briefly look into who tortured the Doctor and a new species alien, as well as Doctor/Martha fluff.**_

_**This chapter is also a little all over the place. Please review and tell me if anything is unclear and I promise I'll explain it all in the next chapter. I have some interesting things planned for future chapters as well as a load more Doctor whump. :) Enjoy!**_

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_****I have with me two gods, Persuasion and Compulsion.  
_

_- _**Themistocles**

* * *

_**Utah, America 2020 …**_

Adam Mitchell had been harmlessly watching some reality television when the doorbell rang. He had no idea _why _people were ringing his doorbell at nine pm at night, but as he moved to the door, he came to the conclusion he was most eager to find out. He wasn't exactly dressed for answering the door – a singlet, boxers and a dressing gown over the top. He opened the door to find two suited men looking most unimpressed to be standing out in the dark.

"Adam Mitchell – could we have a brief moment of your time?" One of the men flashed him an ID card briefly, and then asked politely.

"Have I done something wrong?" Adam asked unwittingly.

"We've been informed you've had contact with an alien who calls himself 'The Doctor'." He continued.

"You're a bit late there." Adam laughed. "I haven't seen that man for eight years now." He remembered being dropped off at home and having to explain to his mother what he gotten done to his head.

One of the men opened a clipboard Adam hadn't noticed him holding before and held out a photo of a completely different looking man. The man had brown sandy hair and looked as if he was in his mid-thirties. He wore a striped brown suit and a tie which was neatly tucked into his overcoat. Over the top of all this, he wore a long trench coat which just touched the ground. He was in mid-stride in this photograph and Adam noticed he was wearing red converse, which was strange considering his clothing choice.

"He's changed his face since you met him." The man stated.

"Regeneration, right?" Adam remembered accessing the file on the Doctor on Satellite 5 and seeing the man had many different faces – the process had been dubbed 'regeneration'.

"We were _also_ informed of your knowledge from the 51st century." The question seemed to trigger that information.

Adam wasn't surprised these men knew about what had happened with him and the Doctor – they seemed relatively knowledge and as if they were from Men in Black, or something.

"We also know about your forehead." They added as well after a brief pause.

He subconsciously reached up to touch where the 'add-on' had been installed on Satellite 5. He tried to avoid clicking his fingers as much as possible, and although he'd grown used to it now, it still scared him to think there was a gaping hole in his brow.

Suddenly there was a box held out in front of him, and he instinctively reached to take it as it were a gift.

"Do you know what a vortex manipulator is, Adam?" The man on the left asked. Before he could answer, they continued, "It is the tool of a Time Agent; it allows you to travel in time."

"So it's like the TARDIS?" Adam asked, recalling the name of the Doctor's time machine.

"It's un-capsuled time travel." He was corrected. "It can be slightly uncomfortable, but it's safe."

"Why am I getting a vortex thing?" Adam queried.

"The Doctor abandoned you those eight years ago, am I correct?" The man on the right said.

Adam considered this question. He'd come to accept over the course of his many years living with his head that what he'd done was wrong. Child genius or not; he'd almost caused the death of the Timelord and his companion Rose Tyler with his stupidity. The Doctor had every right to drop him off back home but these men made it sound as if the Doctor actually _did_ abandon him with his head.

"I was wrong and he dropped me off back home." Adam replied eventually.

"He left you with a hole in your head and expected you to keep quiet about it." The man on the left stated.

Adam found himself inclined to agree with them. But that was not what happened at all – the Doctor took him back home because of his stupid decision making and his head was his own fault. But did the Doctor really leave him back on Earth with something completely inhuman? Did he abandon him because he was too weird? Was he angry at him for almost killing him?

"He did, I guess…" The words spilled out of his mouth without his consent.

"So you'll help us, then?" The man on the right gestured to the box which held the vortex manipulator.

Adam didn't know what 'help' consisted of, but suddenly, he wanted revenge on the man who had dumped him back home and expected him to live with his 'add-on' for the rest of his life. It was as if the idea had quietly been inserted into the back of his head, and slowly, it crept forward and made itself seem entirely reasonable and realistic.

"What do you need me to do?" Again – not his words.

But somehow they sounded right; he _should_ do what these men are asking of him because the Doctor is evil. No… What was he thinking? The Doctor isn't evil. He was only doing what was best for him, wasn't he? Or was he..?

"We need to find the Doctor's weakness." The man on the left said. "That way we will perhaps be able to stop him doing what he's done to you to many other people."

"And we've knowledge of your work for Henry Van Statten in 2012, although the facility was destroyed by the request of the Doctor himself." The man on the right continued from his counterpart. "You can be assured that if you complete your task you will be rewarded handsomely."

"Consider it done." Had he just said that?

Had he just agreed to work these men who wanted him to find a way to kill the alien who had let him off after almost killing him?

"You may use any means necessary, and we will be there to assist in your studies." The man on the left said. "When you're ready, we'll make the jump back to 2008." Adam pulled the foreign machine out of the box, and then the men fastened it around his wrist.

"Just press down onto the glass circle – it's automatically programmed to jump to 2008." Adam wasn't sure which man said that, but he did as he was told.

He placed his hand exactly where it was specified to be, and then the men put their hands of top of his. And then he was standing on the streets of London in his dressing gown.

After hesitation and almost fighting off his tongue, Adam said, "I'm going to need a medical testing facility." He paused. "Also, means of torture and a professor." He added. "Somewhere remote…" He trailed off and a smile etched his lips. "Someplace starting with H."

Deep down, Adam Mitchell knew this was wrong. But these men made it seem so right that the Doctor should be punished for what he did to him and most likely many others as well. He was going to find – or God forbid, invent – a weakness for the Timelord to be very, very afraid of. And he wasn't going to be gentle.

* * *

It had been a miracle the sedative Owen injected the Doctor with had lasted them the whole trip. They'd carried him out of the car again on the stretcher and straight into the Hub where Ianto – who was quite proud of himself; he partially set up the Hub's medical bay without the help of Owen – was waiting for them.

"Do you want us to stay with you, Martha?" Jack asked. "We've got no idea what he's going to be like when he wakes up again." He was clearly concerned.

"I think I'll manage." Martha replied. "But if I need you I'll let you know – you won't miss me screaming for the world." She added with a little laugh.

Jack smiled again, and this time it did reach his eyes. It lit up his whole face. He'd been solemn and concerned these past few months but now he was looking better, now that they'd found the man they'd been looking for.

Once Martha was left alone with her patient, she proceeded to discover the extent of his injuries. She removed the tattered remains of his clothing first, which only revealed even more half-healed cuts and gashes. Most had already scabbed over and were healing nicely, but a few appeared to look infected. She then went to assess his ribs – she was certain two or three were broken just by looking, and by struggling comprehensively when Gwen had held him down hadn't helped either.

An x-ray revealed three broken ribs – one on his left, two on his right – and one bruised one on his right as well. It was only when she went to investigate his wrists and arms did he start to stir. She'd recoiled from him at first; afraid he'd lash out at her and hurt her before Jack could get here. But his eyes opened lazily and explored the room before laying profoundly on her.

"M-Martha?" He stuttered, realizing who she was.

He wasn't showing any signs of hostility – he didn't even appear angry. They'd almost certainly frightened him when they came out of nowhere, but that didn't explain the fact he'd tried to shoot her dead on their rescue mission for him.

"Doctor?" She replied hesitantly.

He didn't reply. He continued to stare at her. His stare bore into her – it made Martha feel as if she wasn't even real. It was like the Doctor was looking right through her and doubted her existence. That was when she realized that was probably exactly the case.

"I'm real, Doctor." Martha touched her chest to show she was tangible. "I'm not an illusion, I promise." She approached him slowly, making sure he could see her as she did.

She held her hands up to show she wasn't holding anything, and then slowly – and ever so gently – laid her hands on his skinny arm. He flinched when she did, but he didn't try to pull away from her touch.

"You can touch me, Doctor." She said gently. "I'm real." Her hand crept down to his, so he was able to enclose his fingers around hers to confirm her presence in the room.

He did exactly that – although, he was wincing as did; Martha suspected he'd broken a couple of fingers – and gently squeezed her hand in his. At first it was gentle and his breathing was slow, but then he gripped her hand harder and his breathing fastened.

"You're in the Torchwood Hub." Martha went on to explain. "Jack is here." The Doctor seemed to recognise the immortal man's name – his grip on her hand stiffened when she mentioned it. "There's also Gwen, Ianto, Owen and Toshiko here." She named all of the Hub's current occupants. "We've been working together to try and find you these past five months." She explained.

He blinked hard and then responded with his stutter, "You w-were looking?" He asked in almost disbelief – as if no one would ever bother looking for him if he went missing.

"For the whole five months." She answered with a sad smile.

"T-they told me you weren't c-coming." He uttered quietly, but then his eyes widened suddenly, and he said brusquely, "I tried to s-shoot you."

"The bullet didn't hit me." Martha tried to reassure him. "Jack took it – he's immortal, remember?" Martha tried to get him off the topic of the fact he'd tried to hurt her.

The Doctor didn't reply. It took a few seconds for Martha to realize he was crying silently, still clutching her hand firmly in his. He was making no effort to wipe the tears away – he just sat there, staring straight ahead with tears running down his face.

"Doctor…" She said quietly, squeezing his hand gently, making sure she avoided the possible broken fingers. "We can worry about everything later, but right now, you're hurt." She said. "And pain isn't fun – I'm going to fix you up, okay?" She tried to say it encouragingly, but it prompted no response.

When she asked again, she got a small nod but nothing more.

"You said no needles before." Martha didn't want to bring up what had happened to him, but it was necessary for the incident at hand. "But it will be a lot less painful if I put you to sleep while I'm fixing you up." She tried to make the preposition sound reasonable.

"N-no pain?" He echoed her preposition rather incredulity.

"If you let me give you one small injection, I promise you there won't be much more pain." She stated.

She was surprised how easy it was to get him to agree. He only gave her a small nod, but then released her hand and tensed slightly. Back in Hartlepool he'd kicked and screamed – and possibly swore in foreign languages – when Jack had mentioned a sedative. But now he was calmer about it, but slightly nervous.

Martha was going to use the same sedative Owen had used on the Doctor before, but only this time it would not be given forcefully. She prepared the needle where the Timelord could see – she didn't want him thinking she was going to try and harm him with its contents.

"Ready?" She asked him as she began to approach slowly again.

He jumped at the sudden noise and winced as he did – he probably moved a little too far for comfort. She held the needle out in front of her for the Doctor to see. He gazed at it rather than her for once, but when she bent down to clean a spot of his arm to insert the needle into him; his attention was snapped back to Martha once more.

"T-the TARDIS?" He inquired quietly.

"She's in the Hub." Martha responded. "She's in the other room. You can see her when you're fit again – I promise." Martha positioned the needle on the Doctor's arm.

"She's talking to me." The stutter went away for that sentence, and the Doctor's face had the echo of a smile all of a sudden. "She's missed me." He said.

Martha didn't know how she was going to explain what had happened with her and the TARDIS to the Timelord, but she knew she would have to eventually.

"On three, okay?" Martha wanted to make the process as tension free as possible.

He nodded.

"One." She paused. "Two." She paused again. "Three." Martha then gently pushed the needle into his arm on 'three', which made the Timelord tense up immensely.

She then put the syringe down and then enclosed her hand around his. He returned the favour almost immediately, and ever so slowly, his hand went limp. His eyes closed gradually and his breathing slowed. The tension was released from his body and his face went from creased with apprehension to completely relaxed.

The would-be-doctor got to work.

* * *

_**PS. If you don't know who Adam Mitchell is you should really re-watch some of the ninth Doctor. xD**_


	4. Torchwood, Cardiff

_**A/N: I had the day off school today so I could finish off chapter 4. I haven't started chapter 5 yet, eeek. xD This chapter is longer than chapter three, hurray! Hopefully this one (standing at 4.5K words!) will satisfy or your questions. Or perhaps it'll raise some... I have no idea. xD**_

_**This chapter doesn't really focus too much on the Doctor - it's more focused around what happened at Hartlepool and Adam Mitchell's state of mind. I hope you've all realized who he is now, or I may have to strangle you for your lack of Whoniverse knowledge. /shot**_

_**Again I apologize for this chapter being all over the place. I'm jumping from time slot to time slot and it's rather annoying me, but it's unfortunately necessary. xD **__**Anyhow! Enjoy chapter four. :) Please inform me if anything is unclear because I won't know unless you tell me xD**_

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_The world is a dangerous place to live; not because of the people who are evil, but because of the people who don't do anything about it.**  
**_

_- **Albert Einstein**_

* * *

_**Five months earlier …**_

Adam Mitchell grinned at his newly constructed medical and torture facility. The irony of the whole project was killing him, but it just _had_ to work. The plan had absolutely no flaws. They were nine or ten hours away from London – which was most likely where the Doctor would be if he came back to Earth – and in the middle of nowhere. They'd hollered onto an abandoned property in Hartlepool that hadn't seen life for a few years now. There was a house that looked well-kept on the outside, but on the inside, it was layered with a thick coating of dust. It had four warehouses that seemed to have held whatever the previous occupants farmed out here. In the basement of the largest and most ragged looking one, Adam Mitchell had his medical and torture facility.

The two men had helped to design and build it. Luckily they didn't have to dig out a basement, which meant work effort was cut in half. They only needed to divide the basement into six or seven rooms – one room would be the Doctor's, the others would hold all the medical equipment, torture equipment and a place for the men to accommodate themselves.

The plan was incredibly simple – after doing hundreds of hours of reading up and conjuring information on the Doctor's regenerations, Adam found he could replicate none of the events that had caused his previous regenerations and as a result, would have to invent a weakness for the Timelord. The men had hired a medical professor from a military operation who called themselves UNIT. 'Hired' may have not been the correct word, since the professor was more or less beaten into helping them and then twisted by the men's ability to screw words into reality permanently. He'd also been able to help the team find the Timelord, since UNIT was constantly following his movements on Earth. At the moment he was travelling with a young medical student called Martha Jones and the last time they returned had been two weeks ago. He was bound to turn up soon, since the medical student had a family living in the present day that she would surely want to visit in between her travels with the Doctor.

The house of Martha Jones's family and Martha Jones's flat was constantly being monitored. When the Doctor did turn up, Adam could simply call up the van that was constantly on standby and tell it where to go, and then program the vortex manipulator to take him to his destination.

Adam and the UNIT professor had been working on a serum that would hopefully completely stop a healing process of a living organism. They had to have a test subject that wouldn't die on them after the first few days, so who was better than a Timelord with accelerated healing? And if it became too much, he could simply regenerate. But even then Adam and the UNIT professor wanted his regeneration process to be cancelled out by the drug so the Timelord would die on site.

Adam knew the Doctor used residual energy to regenerate, but he had yet to figure out a way to cancel out the residual energy's effects. Even with the two men's immense knowledge of alien technology – he found this most disturbing as well; they claimed to be human – they still failed to come up with something that would stop it. Or you could just do it the easy way – deliver another death blow to the Doctor whilst he was regenerating. But where was the fun in that? The more he tested; the more pain the Doctor would have to endure.

The plan of attack on the Doctor was simple – drug him or knock him unconscious and drag him into the van and immediately be on their way. They would leave the TARDIS since that would be too much of a hassle to transport. Once back in Hartlepool they would lock him up in his cell and leave him for a while to digest the recent turn of events.

And then they would torture him. Firstly they would torture him without giving him the needle Adam and the UNIT professor – he just remembered; he never asked for the man's actual name – so they could observe how he healed with his normal accelerated healing. And then they would torture him again exactly the same way after he'd mostly healed up after injecting him with the substance and note any delay in his healing. The process would be long, but it would certainly be most amusing to hear the man that had abandoned him scream.

The two men – who he somewhat doubted to be human, but who cares? – would do the torturing for him. He did not want the Doctor to know he was behind this. The UNIT professor would always take notes for Adam during the torture so the Doctor had no knowledge of Adam being behind his torture. Somewhere, deep down, he still cared for the man. But whilst around the men – which was twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week – he felt he needed to have revenge on the Timelord and make him suffer dearly what he's done to him.

Once the torture had been done and the UNIT professor had taken the notes Adam needed, they would leave him to heal in his cell. Adam would than change the serum – adding or subtracting certain things which contributed to its effect on him – according to the professor's notes and then they'd start the next round of torture as soon as the Doctor was healed enough and wouldn't die.

"Sir?"

Adam was roused from reading over his plan of action by the professor asking for his attention.

"What do you want?" He snapped at him, annoyed at his interjection – he'd been quite enjoying reading over what was going to happen to the Doctor again.

"The Doctor's TARDIS materialized outside Francine Jones's house a couple of minutes ago." The professor reported.

Adam looked up at the UNIT professor and smiled. Now he wasn't all too angry at the man.

"Thank you…" He trailed off, hinting he finally wanted to know the man's name after all this time.

"Professor Harry Simpson." He answered obediently. "Served at UNIT for nine years –"

"Cool, very nice." Adam interrupted half-heartedly, before glancing at the vortex manipulator on his wrist. "What were the co-ordinates to the Jones's residence?" He asked him, the information having flied over his head when he was informed.

"Seventy-two thirteen North." A different voice answered Adam's question, and he wasn't surprised to find the two men in the door frame, looming over Professor Simpson.

"Thank you – now, you two, are you going to accompany me?" He asked. "I'm assuming you've alerted transport already, so now all we have to do is get ourselves there." He said.

"I'll wait here, yes?" Professor Simpson interjected.

He got no reply, but he assumed it to be a yes.

"Co-ordinates set." One of the men said, hand on Adam's vortex manipulator.

Adam laid his hand on top of the man's, and the other man laid his on top of Adam's. And then they were standing on a street corner, the black van parked outside of a house not far down. The vortex manipulator started to beep, showing the life-sign of a person with two hearts.

"He's here." Adam confirmed with a grin.

After collecting themselves from the jump – Adam hadn't done it much and he still felt nauseated afterwards – they moved to the van. It was manned by a man wearing the same suits the other men did. Adam hopped in shotgun. The other two men climbed into the row of seats behind.

"Sensors have indicated he's landed the TARDIS in the backyard." Adam wasn't sure which man said it – all their voices sounded the same. "There's no chance of him coming onto the street." It was the driver who had spoken, Adam realized.

"We can soon fix that." One of the men in the backseat sniggered. "Adam, do you remember Rose Tyler?" He asked out of the blue.

Oh boy, did Adam Mitchell remember the blonde London woman. He'd spent his first few years after they'd dropped him off drooling over her. Even though he was younger than her, she was still so beautiful…

"That'll be enough, thank you." They had never ordered Adam around much before, so that was probably the first time they'd told him to stop.

"What are you going to do?" Adam found himself asking.

"He used to have a very strong mental barrier around his memories and experiences." The other man began. "He's lost Rose recently and has let his defences down, so now, we're going to conjure up memories of her for him, and then suggest he take a walk outside." He almost laughed during speaking the last few words.

It didn't surprise Adam these men had just confirmed they weren't human. How on Earth would humans have acquired a vortex manipulator? Either you had to kill a Time Agent – which Adam suspected they had done – or pay a very handsome price for one. Psychic aliens were a new one though – even stranger than his forehead implant.

Minutes later, the front door to the nearby house opened, and out came the man who the two alien men had shown him a photo of. He was wearing exactly the same outfit, only his brown pin-striped suit was now a deep blue. He still wore his red converse and his brown trench-coat.

"Move closer." Adam found himself saying.

The driver did as he was told and edged the van closer to the Doctor, who walking the other way. He seemed to register the fact the van had pulled up beside him, but then he continued to walk, hands in pockets.

All of a sudden, Adam was handed a handkerchief. He took it.

"It'll knock him out cold." One of the alien men said. "Just cover his mouth with it; we'll do the rest." Adam got the idea he got to do it because he was the one who so badly wanted revenge on the Timelord.

He did as he was told, opening the door to the van and silently approaching the strolling man. Counting to three in his head, he clamped the handkerchief over the Timelord's mouth.

"Hey! What're you…?" He didn't get to finish his question, since he started to go limp.

Suddenly the two alien men were there to catch the Doctor's body and whisk him away into the back of the van. Adam steadied himself, stuffing the handkerchief into his jean's pocket and hopping back in the van.

"Let's go." He commanded the driver.

Who knew capturing the last Timelord in existence could be so easy? Apparently it was. Adam relaxed into the van's front seat, thoughts drifting to what was in store for the alien in the back of the van. A grin crept its way onto his lips.

"We advise you go back to Hartlepool now, Adam." He was disturbed by one of the men in the backseat. "It may blow your cover if he realizes you're in the van." They raised a fair point.

Raising the vortex manipulator to the men to allow them to re-program it, he nodded. Without another word he teleported back to Hartlepool and found himself in his lab once again.

* * *

_**Back in the present day …**_

Martha Jones finally emerged from the Hub's medical bay after two – almost three hours – of cleaning up most of the Doctor's injuries and dosing him with a couple of painkillers that hopefully wouldn't harm him. They were courtesy of the TARDIS, of course. Jack had looked up expectantly when she'd made the first trip to the Doctor's time machine, but his expression turned sour when she gave him a small shake of the head, and then entered the TARDIS. She'd told him 'Timelord pain killers' when she came back out and entered the room again. He'd grinned slightly, and then gone back to whatever he was doing beforehand.

And now he looked up at her expectantly again. She gave him a nod and a weak smile this time. He got up to give her a tight hug.

"He's been hurt so badly…" Martha said into his jacket.

"He's safe now." Jack reminded her. "We'll all help him recover, won't we?" He asked rhetorically, but the would-be-doctor nodded anyway.

"I'm so worried about him, Jack." Martha looked up at the immortal man with tears in her eyes. "It's like he's broken." Martha explained to him, wiping his eyes as she did. "He barely knew who I was, and he didn't even think I was real…"

"He'll get better." Jack reassured her. "Even if he's slow about it, he'll still get better." He pulled Martha into his chest again and he tried to ignore the fact she was trembling.

It wasn't long before she was sobbing into his jacket and Jack found himself shushing her and stroking his Nightingale's hair. When she'd calmed down and managed to gather herself, Jack suggested she'd get some sleep. She'd happily obliged, trudging over to the nearest sofa and collapsing onto it.

Jack took that opportunity to check on the Doctor in the medical bay. The immortal man found the Timelord wrapped up in two or three blankets, covered in bandages and hooked up to various machines which monitored different things. He looked quite sorry for himself with his hollow cheeks and eyes that dug into his head. His usually messy hair was even messier than usual, although it wasn't caked in blood anymore. Aside from the fact he was plastered with bandages and was much skinnier than he should be, he actually looked quite peaceful.

Jack eventually drew himself away from watching the Doctor sleep – the Timelord didn't sleep much as it was – and went to find a blanket to cover Martha with. He'd always said the Hub wasn't a hotel, but that rule had been abided these past few months. He was rather glad Martha was the sort of person who'd leave a mess everywhere, though. She was quite neat and always cleaned up after herself if she did make a mess. Martha was a delight and the Doctor was lucky to have her caring for him.

* * *

The Doctor felt like his head was about to burst open. A groan found its way out of his lips as he reached up to soothe is throbbing head. If he could remember correctly… today should be a needle day. He didn't remember what had happened to him yesterday, but he was prepared for it to happen again today.

And then he realized, when he opened his eyes, he wasn't in his room any more. He was lying somewhere he was sure he'd never been before. And he was lying somewhere comfortable, which was one of the strangest things that had happened the past five months. When he explored the room with heavy eyes, he was most intrigued to discover he was in a medical bay. He'd met Martha in something that was similar to a medical bay…

And then he remembered what had happened exactly sixty-six hours, two minutes and eighteen seconds ago.

"M-Martha?" He stuttered to the empty room.

The pain from last time wasn't as bad now, and would only become a bother when he tried to move. So he resorted to staying still and putting up with his splitting headache.

Exactly three minutes and two seconds later, the would-be-doctor walked into the medical bay, nursing a cup of coffee in her hands. She ran her eyes over the Doctor while taking a sip, and didn't seem to realise he was awake until he groaned from his piercing headache again.

She moved over beside him and slowly enclosed her hand around his.

"How are you feeling?" Martha requested more than asked – she seemed to want to make him talk.

"My head…" He murmured.

"Headache?" She asked with a shaky laugh.

He only nodded in response, which made his headache increasingly worse. He didn't complain about it though. Usually only complaining meant more pain for him. Martha soon had her thumb stroking the back of the Doctor's hand. It made him nervous that she was touching him, but her intent didn't seem to be violent so he sat there and took it.

It was only when the door opened and Captain Jack Harkness walked in did he yank his hand away from Martha's grip and tense up, simply fearing the fact someone new had appeared. Jack had also stabbed him arm when they'd rescued him… He remembered well now. Would he hurt him again?

"Doctor?" The strong American accent asked.

The Doctor clamped his eyes shut, refusing to look at the immortal man. Jack had a gun holstered in his belt too. He wasn't going to take any chances. The men had shot him once…

"He's scared of you." Martha stated the obvious from beside him.

There was a pause and no one said anything for quite some time. It was only when someone – the Doctor couldn't tell who it was – laid their hand gently on his arm did he open his eyes and pull his arm away from the offender. He realized it was Martha, and relaxed slightly to see Jack no longer had the gun in his belt. The immortal man's brow was furrowed in frustration from the fear he'd provoked in the Timelord.

"J-Jack…" The Doctor acknowledged him with a stutter. "You're n-not going to h-hurt me again?" He asked.

The immortal man gave the Doctor a perplexed look.

"Why on Earth would I try to hurt you, Doc?" He asked in response, but then he recalled the sedative incident in Hartlepool. "That was for you own good…" Jack said gently, hoping the statement wouldn't seem out of place.

He got no response after that. The Doctor didn't know what to say to him. He'd given him that sedative without _his_ consent and he'd just waltzed into the room sporting a loaded gun…

"You might have hurt one of us on the drive back." Jack continued after the Doctor didn't reply. "And we didn't want to take any chances." He explained.

"I t-tried to shoot M-Martha…" The Doctor stammered sadly.

Nor the ex-Time Agent or the would-be-doctor had any decent response to that, so Martha changed the subject.

"Do you feel any better?" She asked.

"No p-pain." He confirmed with her. "H-headache, though…" He added pessimistically.

"And a stutter." Jack appended silently from beside Martha.

"With your Timelord healing you should be walking in three or four days." Martha told him confidently.

At the mention of the expression 'Timelord healing' the Doctor tensed up. Martha glanced at Jack, who only gave her a shrug to the question she'd hadn't spoken. He didn't clamp his eyes shut like he did when he'd seen Jack's gun, but now he seemed apprehensive. Martha didn't want to talk about what had happened to him over these five months until he was ready, so she tried to ignore the fact the phrase made him jumpy.

"You can see the TARDIS again." Martha added positively.

At the mention of the TARDIS the Doctor's face seemed to light up. He didn't quite reach a smile, but some of the tension had diminished from the mention of 'Timelord healing'.

"And there a couple of things in the Hub that could use fixing." Jack accompanied Martha's positiveness with one of his cheeky smiles.

Martha could only ponder the sexual undertones he'd been intending through that sentence. The Doctor didn't seem to notice. He was gazing at the door to the Hub longingly. Martha guessed he wanted to see the TARDIS again.

"Just a couple more days." She told him soothingly, now stroking his hand again. "Then you can see her again, I promise."

* * *

_**Back in Hartlepool …**_

Adam Mitchell had been coaxed into his lab by the remaining man – his partner had been shot down and he had died. Professor Simpson was dead now too, so it was only Adam and one alien man.

"What are we going to do now?" Adam asked distraughtly.

The alien man seemed slightly erratic without his counterpart. Adam wondered if they'd been the same person – just separated into two separate bodies for more man power.

"Keep to our original objective." The alien man answered. "But tell me – did you finish the serum to stop him healing?" The question hung in the air as Adam pondered how to answer.

He didn't want to provoke the alien. It seemed like he was just about ready to pounce on him and rip his throat out without a second thought. It frightened him. He no longer felt angry at the Doctor… He felt frightened. It was weird. These past five months he'd been nothing but angry, but after his friends had come to rescue him – just as he'd feared, may he add – and the alien's counterpart was confirmed dead, he was nothing but frightened. He was frightened for not his life, but the alien man's in front of him.

"It will work to about eighty-five percent." Adam finally responded. "Another month and I could have had it perfected…"

"Well, we don't exactly _have_ a test subject now, do we?" The man snapped.

Adam remained silent after that. The man seemed to be becoming more and more agitated by the minute. He resorted to fiddling with the vortex manipulator again.

"What about humans?" He raised the question after pondering for a minute or two. "They're pretty disposable…" He trailed off, considering the fact the nearest town was two or three hours away.

The man didn't answer. The silence droned off for what seemed like forever.

And the suddenly, "The professor said he worked for UNIT, didn't he?" The man apparently had an idea.

Adam nodded in response.

"We can't exactly waltz into UNIT if the man's been missing and rogue for five months." He bought up quietly.

"I have a thing with people." The man's lips curved into a smile. "And we have his body lying in the hallway, so I do believe this could work." He abruptly moved outside and Adam followed him.

The man had kneeled beside the dead body of Professor Simpson and was doing a quick double-take of the man's injuries.

"I can live with this." He said with another smile.

Suddenly the man collapsed, the professor expelled a loud gasp of air. He sat up, clutching his stomach from where he'd been shot. Blood began to seep again, but the professor pressed his hands to the wound and the blood flow stopped.

"How did you…?" Adam trailed off, keeping in mind the man was an alien.

"Body-switcher." The professor answered with a smile. "It makes me feel like shit afterwards, but we have to find that Timelord." Without another word, he kicked his previous body aside and started towards the stairs.

Adam followed him. His relationship with these aliens – now _alien_, apparently, although he suspected both bodies had been the same consciousness – was getting increasingly stranger. When Adam was in the car and riding shotgun, the alien in the professor's body sped off.

"Do you even know where UNIT headquarters is?" Adam found himself asking.

The alien tapped the professor's head.

"Memory exchange." He answered.

"But he was dead…" Adam protested.

"You wouldn't understand."

Adam didn't not to ask any questions after that. They made the rest of the journey in silence. It was only when they began to approach London did Adam want to ask more questions.

"If you don't mind me asking." Adam began. "What are we going to do at UNIT headquarters?"

"They have satellites." He got an immediate reply. "You're going to hack into them and expand the scanner of the vortex manipulator to the whole of Europe." He explained. "A person with two hearts will be considerably easy to find." He added with a smile.

They parked up outside and the car had barely stopped moving when the professor got out. Adam followed him. He was stopped at the doors.

"Professor." The guards acknowledged. "Go right on in." Adam was puzzled – why didn't they mention the fact the actual professor Simpson had been missing for five months?

Reading his mind the alien said, "I told you. I have a thing with people." He didn't say anything until they reached a room filled with various computers.

The alien directed Adam to a certain one at the side of the room.

"Do your stuff." He slapped him on the back rather hard.

Adam took a seat and began typing away at the keyboard. The professor's ID card allowed him immediate access, but now he had to figure out how to connect the vortex manipulator to the computer… Or the other way round. He just needed to do a full scan of London for someone with two hearts.

After tapping away for twenty minutes longer and discovering that UNIT already _had_ a pre-set scan for someone for two hearts at the end of those long twenty minutes had he finally activated the scan.

"Desperate." He muttered under his breath.

"What?"

"The scan's been started." He told the alien cheerfully. "It should take ten minutes or so."

"When it's done we can discuss your reward." The alien proclaimed.

The next ten minutes were possibly the longest ten minutes of his life. He had been looking forward to his reward for quite some time now. When they'd first mentioned it on his doorstep in 2020 he'd been most intrigued to participate for the reward factor purely.

"It's done." Adam announced.

He was immediately shoved out of the chair, the alien taking his place in front of the computer screen. Adam saw a smile rise to his lips.

"Cardiff." He hollered. "Torchwood."

"And my reward?" Adam prompted in annoyance, since the alien seemed to have forgotten his existence completely.

"Oh yes…" The alien's tone had changed significantly. "I don't think I'll need you anymore." He said it almost sadly. "The professor's memory has everything I need to know… and well…" He somehow pulled a gun out his lab coat.

Adam watched the alien finger the gun despondently. He felt himself flush – was he just playing around?

"You've been useful." He continued in his eccentric tone. "And I thank you for your help." He clicked his fingers and Adam felt his 'add-on' open up.

Soon enough the barrel of the handheld was poised just in front of the hole in his head. The alien clicked the safety off.

"Here's your reward, _sir_." He almost spat the last word.

The last thing Adam Mitchell knew, Professor Simpson was pulling the trigger and his head had exploded into an excruciating headache.


	5. The Last Human

_**A/N: Phew I'm surprised how fast I can write when I have nothing to do. xD As a reward for putting up with Adam Mitchell in the previous chapter, this chapter is purely from the Doctor's point of view. And dun dun dun...! You also find out who the weird alien guys are :O**_

_**I really hope what I've said makes sense in this chapter and please immediately inform me if it doesn't so I'm able to fix it. xD I'd honestly hate for someone to later come along and read this and think, "what on earth is going on?" half way through, and since I've already continued it past, be unable to change it for them to understand.**_

_**So please enjoy and review if you like it :D **_

* * *

It was the middle of the night and the Doctor couldn't get to sleep. He was lying on his bed in the Torchwood Hub's medical bay, staring up at the ceiling. The TARDIS was trying to coax him into closing his eyes, but the splitting headache was keeping him awake. He'd complained to her and she'd soothed it slightly by touching her mind to his. She hadn't mentioned what had happened just yet, and for that he was glad.

He felt slightly sad lying here, stuck in Cardiff and confined to bed. He remembered very clearly how he'd reacted after one of the men had convinced him Martha had abandoned him; both physically and mentally. He'd been completely unjust, and for that he was disappointed in himself. He'd tried to shoot perhaps the only person in the world that may have just slightly cared for him. He'd almost killed her and she didn't seem to care, aside from the fact she'd get jumpy around him. He wanted so badly to tell her about how bad he felt… but once again complaining – about _anything_ – got him belted.

He'd come to terms with the fact he could finally speak without being hit in punishment, but he still never complained openly about the pain. He'd made a grave mistake telling Martha about his headache, and had been even more frightened when Jack walked in with a gun. He still couldn't get his head around whether Jack was going to hurt him or not – he'd stabbed him back in his room rather violently and one of his squad members had restraint him. Could he trust Jack? Could he trust his Torchwood team? Could he trust _anyone_ anymore?

And then suddenly the Doctor was no longer in his bed; he was floating in the TARDIS's conscience – a place he hadn't been much, but knew plenty about.

"It would really help if you'd grab some sleep." She continued to entice him, but he turned to leave the mental encounter in annoyance.

He'd been quite happily staring into the darkness and savouring the fact he was finally alone and not hurting. She sensed his annoyance straight away and mentally sighed.

"If it sets your mind at ease, Theta, I can tell you how they came to find you." The TARDIS had a way of getting him to do things.

"Don't call me Theta." He snapped at her.

"Don't tell me what to do." The room seemed to dim with that statement from the TARDIS.

"Don't drag me into your head and tell _me_ what to do." He retorted, and the room got even darker.

"You can have this back, then." She said spitefully.

The Doctor's awful headache instantly took over his head again and he doubled over with a gasp of pain. He entwined his shaking fingers into his hair in an attempt to take the unbearable pain away, but then it left before he could touch his scalp.

"Are you going to stop being malevolent?" The TARDIS had proved her point to him, and he nodded to show he understood.

"I'm sorry." The Doctor apologised to her, but she only smiled softly.

"It's nothing to be sorry about." She reassured him. "I know you're still traumatized after what happened." She began. "And I can tell you –"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"I understand."

"I'm sorry." The Doctor apologized quietly again.

The TARDIS didn't reply this time, but she seemed to be digesting the fact that this was probably one of the first times the Doctor hadn't shared something with her.

"They had nothing at the five month mark." The TARDIS eventually started up again. "They'd driven through the whole of London looking for your life sign but they never found it." She uttered. "When Martha came in looking for answers again, I showed her where you were."

"You did _what_?" The Doctor hadn't been paying much attention to the TARDIS before that last sentence. "You went inside her _head_?"

"What choice did I have?" She asked in reply. "They never would have found you and you would have been even worse than you are now!"

That shut the Doctor up for a while. He didn't know what to say in response. The TARDIS was right in what she did – but endangering Martha was something he wasn't exactly happy about.

"I'm sorry Theta, but it was necessary and we both know it."

The Doctor still didn't know what to say. He wasn't angry at the TARDIS. He was more annoyed that she'd go to such dangerous measures to keep him safe. He knew she cared about him deeply and she'd go out of her way to ensure nothing happened to him or his companions but that still didn't justify the danger he'd put Martha in.

"To have the mind of a TARDIS running through you…" The Doctor hallowed.

"It was physical contact." The TARDIS added. "The worst she could have gotten was a bad headache that lasted a couple of days."

"You still could have hurt her."

"Well, consider yourself lucky Jack has the time vortex still running through him and keeping him alive."

The Doctor caught himself smiling at that. But then he reverted back to a pout.

"I'm not sure if I can trust Jack." The Doctor decided to let her in just a little bit, just to see what she'd say. "I remembered he stabbed me back in there…" His voice cracked and he swallowed to regain himself. "He made someone hold me down… I was struggling." He paused, and then realized something. "I don't remember why I was so frantic."

"You're feeling really guilty about it." The TARDIS sounded more like a psychiatrist than an almighty time machine now.

"I don't feel guilty about that." He didn't know how the TARDIS was getting in so easily.

The TARDIS decided not to push him any further than that, and once again, he was glad that she didn't.

"If it makes you feel better." She started to speak again. "I trust Jack." She paused, apparently to think of what to say next. "He's saved your life plenty of times and he always kept Rose safe. He was always there to make you grin from ear to ear."

"He stabbed –"

"You know if he did something so unwarranted to you that it was for an incredibly good reason that he's ready to justify, and you know it better than anyone."

The Doctor paused to digest that thought. He pushed aside the gun he'd had on him – it was only natural Jack would carry a gun, considering how dangerous his job was – and ran over the TARDIS's thoughts many times in his head.

She was right. Jack _had_ always been there for him, and Jack had always made sure the Doctor had a reason to grin. Heck, the man had even _kissed _him…

The Doctor opened his eyes to suddenly find he was lying back in bed. Light was now flooding into the medical bay from the windows. Their brief mental conversation had lasted hours, but it had only been minutes inside his head.

"Thank you for everything." He whispered aloud to the TARDIS.

"Whoa Doc, I only bought you a glass of water." The sudden noise made him jump out of his skin, but he relaxed when he realized the accent was distinctively American.

"Jack." The Doctor acknowledged the immortal man.

"Martha's fixing herself a coffee like usual, she'll only be a minute, yeah?" He turned to leave the room, ignoring his acknowledgement, obviously still under the impression the Timelord was scared of him.

"Jack, no…" He couldn't bring himself to say much more, because the immortal man's perplexed expression when the Doctor acknowledged he was leaving made his voice crack.

The ex-time agent was immediately sitting in a chair that he'd pulled up beside the bed. He'd been waiting for this, and the Doctor knew it.

"No stutter now, 'ey?" He commented with a smile.

"The TARDIS." He said. "The TARDIS reminded me about everything and I'm so sorry…"

"You don't have to be sorry." Jack reassured the Doctor the same way the TARDIS had. "I was wrong to have given you that needle and I should have attempted to calm you down first."

"No, I understand completely." The Doctor stated. "I understand I was hysterical and you did it so everyone else was safe…" He swallowed again since his had voice cracked.

"And I don't blame you for being as you were…"

"Jack." The Doctor grasped the immortal man's hand, and his face registered surprise. "I tried to shoot Martha dead." The Doctor was also surprised at himself for touching someone so soon. "That's every reason to sedate someone."

"I'm sorry, but am I interrupting something?" Both men turned to see Martha Jones standing in the doorway looking rather perplexed, holding her coffee.

The Timelord and the ex-time agent pulled their hands away from each other and Martha grinned.

"Feeling better then, Doctor?" Martha asked as she walked in.

The Doctor wasn't quite sure. The conversation with the TARDIS had made him feel much, much better and he'd barely told her anything. He'd managed to talk to Jack and tell him he was sorry and that was a great improvement from cowering from behind his eyelids. He was still feeling incredibly paranoid that someone was going to come out and hit him.

The Doctor didn't answer her question in the end. He was pretty sure the confrontation with Jack had been purely adrenaline from the TARDIS. The sudden giddiness he'd had moments before and faded back into fear and pain.

"Doctor?" Martha was obviously confused by his silence.

"I've got a load of paperwork to do." The lie was obvious but Martha didn't comment; she gave the immortal man a nod and he left without another word.

"Doctor, if you don't tell me what's wrong I can't help you." Martha suddenly had her hand enclosed around his again and he tried his best not to be nervous.

"If I complain a-about the pain…" The Doctor trailed off, not feeling completely ready to start bringing up what had happened so early.

"If you didn't complain about pain, Doctor, how would you have met me?" The question caught him completely off-guard.

He remembered meeting Martha in the hospital. He'd lied about abdomen pains to get into the Royal Hope hospital to investigate possible alien interference.

"Even if you lied about it, you still 'complained', didn't you?" She continued to talk. "All those people would have died if you wouldn't have done what you did." She stroked the back of his hand gently. "So please tell me – what hurts?"

"I h-have this headache that w-won't go away…" The Doctor told her finally and Martha squeezed his hand in encouragement. "It's like…" He trailed off, trying to find a way to explain it. "It's like s-someone is inside my h-head and is trying to c-claw their way out."

"Even after the painkillers?" She prompted him to keep talking.

She only got a nod in response, but it was good enough.

"The T-TARDIS is taking it a-away but I s-still feel it… The Doctor decided to tell her that as well.

Martha wanted to so desperately ask what had happened to him in those five months and resolve the pain he was in, but she knew he wasn't ready to talk about it yet. He was barely able to tell her he was hurting in fear she'd hit him if he did.

"Does anything else hurt?" She decided to ask instead.

"No." He answered. "The w-worst is mostly healed…" His voice cracked at the word 'healed' and he recoiled immediately after saying it, like yesterday.

Again it killed Martha not to press what the word meant to him so she took to stroking his hand soothingly again. He returned her grip around his hand with a gentle sigh.

"I'm s-sorry for trying to shoot you." The apology came out of nowhere.

"I understand you were scared." Martha answered. "It's all okay – I completely understand."

"I d-don't know why I t-tried to kill you." He admitted sadly. "I don't remember…"

Martha was about to answer him with a soothingly reply when Jack burst into the room, making the Doctor clamp his eyes shut tightly from the sudden disturbance and noise.

"Doctor, I'm sorry for scaring you, but I think I have some information you'd be most interested in." Jack said.

His voice sounded solemn and depressed all of a sudden. Before the immortal man had been completely over the moon the Doctor had talked to him, and now…

"UNIT just contacted me and told me they've found the body of twenty-two year old Adam Mitchell in their satellite control room." The Doctor recognised that name from somewhere, but he couldn't put his finger on where. "He has a vortex manipulator and the last programmed jump was to where we found you in Hartlepool." The Doctor opened his eyes to look at Jack in curiosity – had he just found out who had been behind his suffering?

"Where's the name from, Doctor?" Martha prompted, noticing he'd recognised the name when Jack had said it.

"There's more." Jack interjected. "There was a note in his jacket pocket that he couldn't have written it; the ink was fresh and the man had been dead for ten minutes." Jack paused to apparently gather himself.

"What did the note say?" Martha asked Jack, who apparently was having trouble spitting out the words.

"'It's airborne. See you at Torchwood Three.'" Jack recited. "And it was signed by someone who called themselves 'The Last Human'."

The Doctor felt his blood run cold. Colder than cold, if that was even possible. He now recognised the two names and it all made sense. Cassandra hadn't died in Chip's body – she'd transferred herself to her own body before she could die in Chip's. She had re-lived her life as _herself_ all over again.

Cassandra had employed Adam after being briefly in his body on New Earth since she knew Adam would be weak-minded and be interested in 'proving himself' to the Doctor again. Poor Adam… Poor sweet, sweet, gullible Adam… And yet the Doctor didn't blame him. Cassandra had already planted herself inside his head before he even met him in Henry Van Statten's museum. Cassandra had _suggested_ Adam get that head implant and feed the information to the Editor so the Doctor would die on the game station and everything would have been quick and easy for her.

The woman had been planning her revenge for so long - how must it much have killed her to be nice to him on New Earth in the hospital. She was playing an incredibly long game and he'd been so engulfed in losing Rose that he hadn't seen it.

And his headache - oh, how he cursed himself for being so _stupid_ – wasn't a headache at all. That night at Martha's house when he'd been thinking of Rose… Cassandra had dispatched herself into his head and quietly 'suggested' he take a walk outside so she could whisk him away to Hartlepool to invent a weakness for him. Cassandra was _growing_ in his head. That's why he'd been so easily convinced by those two men. Cassandra would speak the words through them and then suggest to her consciousness inside of him that they were right, and he would come to accept them as real.

When he'd been removed from around her immediate presence he'd suffered amnesia because it was so suddenly ripped out of him by shooting half of the consciousness down… But there was a little bit left and it was feeding off his anxiety and pain and it was growing.

And now Cassandra was coming with the death potion and everyone in the Hub is going to die unless he springs back into being the Doctor again. He wasn't ready. He was so far from ready. He could barely walk.

"Doctor…?" Martha asked apprehensively, breaking him out of his trance. "What does it mean? Who is the Last Human? Who is Adam Mitchell?"

"We all have to get out of here." The Doctor fought of his stutter, trying to sound serious.

He was going to be the Doctor again and he was going to regret it later. But right now people he cared about were in grave danger because of him and that was something he was never going to stand for.

"Jack, would you mind?" He pulled the blankets off himself and gestured for Jack to carry him. "Martha – tell everyone else to get in the TARDIS. You still have a key, right?" She nodded and was gone.

The Doctor was in Jack's arms the next second and there were four confused people running towards the TARDIS doors with Martha leading them.

"I knew I'd sweep you off your feet someday Doc." Jack commented with one of his dazzling smiles.

The Doctor decided not to comment – he felt incredibly sick after being moved around so suddenly. He didn't want to ruin his heroism by throwing up all over Jack.

Relief swamped over him when Jack entered the TARDIS and shut the doors behind him – both physically and emotionally. The TARDIS took away so much of the physical pain and digested what he'd just discovered about Cassandra. It took some of the stress away.

"Put me down, Jack." The Doctor said sternly.

"You can't walk." Martha commented dryly. "And it'll only make the injuries worse." She added.

"I'll be fine." The Doctor reassured her. "Running on adrenaline now, and I'm in the TARDIS."

Jack then did as he was told, setting the Doctor down on the grating. At first the Timelord stumbled and grabbed onto the console for support, but he managed to pull himself to his feet and remain upright.

"Martha, that corridor." He pointed to behind the would-be-doctor. "Go up the stairs at the end and then the third door on the right. There's a wardrobe. Grab my suit and bring it down here." And she was gone.

"I don't mean to be a party pooper…" A voice the Doctor had never heard before began.

It belonged to a man who was lazily leaning against the console and gazing at the Doctor looking rather unimpressed.

"But what are we running from? Nothing can get into the Hub." He said.

The Doctor hobbled over to the console and pulled the television he had towards the unknown man. He pressed a few buttons and hit it with his fist, and an image of the Hub was suddenly produced. In the corner of the image, there was a distinct swirling green mist that was finding its way around the room.

"What is it?" The Doctor jumped when he realized three other people had gathered around the television and were gazing at the mist.

Jack seemed to notice the Doctor's apprehension at being crowded, and pushed his team to the sides so he was standing right behind the Doctor. It made him feel slightly safer, having someone familiar close to him.

"It's why I was missing for five months." The Doctor alleged.

Martha then returned with his suit and he'd stripped whilst everyone else was glued to the screen, watching the mist consume the Hub. He'd caught Jack and Martha looking and honestly he couldn't care less right now.

When he'd limped back over to push them away from the console, he received a cheeky wink from Jack. He'd mouthed, "nice bum" at him afterwards. The Doctor once again chose to ignore him and was suddenly a blur around the console, pressing buttons and pulling levers.

Martha managed to coax him away halfway through, expressing her deep worry for the fact he was rushing too fast into his recovery.

"Cassandra is very dangerous." He'd said. "I can't put you all in danger. It's my fault this is happening and I've got to stop it before it gets any worse..."

"You can barely walk, Doctor. And I can see the fear of being around so many people in your eyes from a million miles away." Martha had answered. "Just minutes ago you were absolutely terrified of your own fingers and now you're bounding into the TARDIS like nothing's wrong…" The statement hit home.

"Everything's wrong, Martha!" The Doctor roared suddenly, snapping the whole room's attention to him. "I was tortured for five months by this woman and you never even _found _me! How was I supposed to expect the best when all I got was the worst? They whipped me, they broke my bones, they cut me just to watch me bleed! And don't tell me you understand how I feel, because you weren't there – you didn't watch me almost bleed to death on the ground whilst those people watched and took notes the whole time. I was never touched, never spoken to, barely even fed." He paused to take in a deep breath. "And while I'm discussing what's wrong with me, why don't we bring up the fact I watched my own planet _burn_? I'm a cold blooded murderer that executed his own race and I suffer the consequences every single day!" He paused to wipe his eyes; he was conscious he was crying. "I watched my own family die! My children, my wife, my _friends_…" He sniffed. "I have killed so many people, Martha Jones, and I'm just keeping my head above the water." He then lowered his tone. "I'm not going to let anyone else die today – no matter how badly I'm hurt or how scared I am." He looked the would-be-doctor right in the eyes and asked, "Does _that_ answer your question as to if I'm okay?"

* * *

_**PS. I'm also looking for a Beta for this story since it seems to be getting plenty of updates and reviews. xD I'm the queen of typos and are horrible at proof-reading my own writing (aren't we all, though? xD) so if you'd like to Beta for me or know someone who can please drop me a PM :D**_

_**Thanks! :)**_


	6. Even

_**A/N: Hello hello I'm still alive! You can all stop panicking now! I bring you the fairly short chapter six. xD I have started to watch Torchwood so hopefully the characters will being to make a little more sense. This chapter, heh, it gets a little dark and there's some direct contact with the enemy involved. I really hope you don't mind. I didn't know what else to put at the top, really, since it's pretty self explanatory.**_

_**I did want to ask, though, should I make the story a crossover with Torchwood? Or should I keep it as the single category in Doctor Who? **_

_**Also, thank you so much for all the reviews! It's appreciated so much and makes me so happy. xD Enjoy chapter 6 and don't come after me with pitchforks and torches.**_

* * *

The Doctor had gone back to playing with the console after that. Martha had been relatively speechless, as well as the Torchwood team who had been intently listening to the Timelord's outburst. Martha took to sitting down and digesting what he'd just told her. She had every right to be concerned – she knew he was in pain and she knew he wasn't ready to be thrown into the world just yet.

"Jack, Martha." The Doctor roused up the only two names he knew eventually, though he didn't look up from what he was doing. "Go dig around for some gas masks…" He trailed off to run his eyes over Jack's team. "Seven or eight of them would be good."

They left without objection, and the Doctor was left alone with Torchwood Three.

"Name's Owen." A man stepped forward to hold his hand out to the Doctor. "Field medic. Jack kept saying you were a doctor, so, you got experience?"

The Doctor didn't answer him. He tried to appear absorbed in pressing random buttons on the console. He didn't pause to shake Owen's hand either. He wasn't interested in Jack's Torchwood team. He wasn't interested in Jack either but without Torchwood god knows where he'd be right now.

"Gwen Cooper." The one who the Doctor recognized as the person who had held him down. "I'm still new to all this alien stuff, but I was a cop." She was distinctively Welsh.

"Toshiko Sato." The Asian women introduced herself next. "Computers and science." The Doctor appreciated the fact Toshiko wasn't loud like Owen, and wasn't bold like Gwen – and she liked science.

"Ianto Jones." The man in the suit said. "Do all the runs, ensure everyone's fed, driving, all that…"

"There's only six." Martha's sudden speaking made him jump. "At least, we could only find six."

_You're not ready, Theta. Please, lie down and rest. Your friends can take care of it._

"Toshiko, wasn't it?" The Doctor ignored the TARDIS's attempt to get him out of action.

_Theta…_

"I need you to monitor everything that's going on outside from in here." The Doctor directed her to the console, where he pulled the monitor round to her so she could see. "I'll give you a communicator, and you need to tell me if anything changes."

_Last warning._

"Everyone else, masks on." He turned to face the rest of Torchwood Three and Martha. "If you breathe in that gas, something as little as a paper-cut means you'll bleed to death very, very slowly." He flashed them a slight smile, the first since he'd been rescued, but he could see the doubt and worry in everyone's eyes.

The Doctor was about to fasten his gas mask over his face, but he doubled over when the TARDIS ever so reluctantly returned his pain to him. He cried out profusely and crumpled against the jump seat next to him. Martha and Owen were immediately at his side, asking what was hurting.

"I get it!" The Doctor screeched from between his gritted teeth. "I get it, I get it, I get it!"

The pain subsided at his final repetition of the mantra, and the Doctor was left gasping in shallow gasps of air from his place beside the jump seat, on the ground. The TARDIS said nothing.

"You alright, Doc?" The Doctor hadn't noticed Jack was there – he gasped when the American accent reached his eardrums. "Just me." Jack held up his hands to show he wasn't holding anything dangerous to him.

"I t-think I'll s-stay here…" The Doctor was most annoyed to discover his stutter was back.

"Owen, I want you to –"

"N-no, take your team." The Doctor interjected. "They n-need you more than I d-do." Jack reluctantly raised himself to his feet again, and was barking orders to Torchwood Three and their addition Martha Jones.

"Tosh, extend the air-field to twenty feet in diameter, would you? Don't want anything getting in here." Jack asked the woman as she confusedly looked over the Gallifreyan console and monitor.

"Press the t-third button from the b-button on the left f-four times, and then the e-eighth button on the right from the t-top once." The Doctor stammered helpfully, and got a warm smile from Toshiko in response.

"Keep an eye on him." Martha told the woman with a glare at the Doctor, before fastening the mask over her nose and mouth. "See you when we get back, I guess." The gas mask muffled Martha's voice, but she was still understandable.

Jack and Torchwood Three were out of the door the next minute, and the Doctor managed to pull himself up to stand at the console once the door clicked shut. He didn't want Martha glaring him back down again.

"Jack seems to know you well." Toshiko commented as the Doctor staggered over to join her at the monitor.

"We've been through a lot together." The Doctor found his stutter was gone again, and for that he was happy. "From what I know, he's still got my hand." The Doctor added with a smirk.

"That's your hand?" Toshiko exclaimed in alarm, obviously knowing which hand the Timelord was referring to. "He treasures it – even chose it over catching a dangerous alien." Tosh's face suddenly rendered amusement at the memory, and the Doctor could only dread to think what was funny about it.

"Hey Tosh, what's it looking like from in there? We can't see a thing." Jack's voice radiated from the console rather nosily, and the Doctor tensed.

"I've only got your life-signs at the moment." Tosh answered him. "The fog is thicker than smoke, so it's no surprise you can't see." She added unhelpfully to the immortal man.

"Wonderful." Jack commented, and then he muttered something rude under his breath. "Got anything, anyone?" Jack was obviously talking to the rest of the people outside now.

"Jack." The Doctor started up. "When you found me, what did the men look like that you shot down?" He shivered from the memory of them – suits and comical hair.

"Suited, same hair, sunglasses but one had slightly darker skin. Why?" Jack answered as if he were looking at one.

"Couldn't be slabs." The Doctor mumbled. "What about the other man? The professor?" The Doctor once again shuddered at the memory of the man.

"He was dead – shot him right through the chest." Jack answered.

"His name is Professor Harry Simpson." The Doctor heard Martha answer. "He used to work at UNIT, about nine or ten years, and went missing about five months ago. I assisted him in his studies sometimes." She elaborated.

"He was a UNIT professor?" Jack asked in apparent alarm.

"Yes Jack, is there anything wrong with that?" Martha's annoyance at the immortal man made the Doctor smirk.

"There was no way UNIT would let someone without ID so deep into their base, or namely, the satellite control room." Jack continued, and then the Doctor's smirk faded.

"She's in his body." The Doctor realized dryly. "If he was dead…" The Doctor trailed off, stealing the monitor from Tosh and gazing at the five life-signs from outside. "Jack, tell everyone to get back here. She could be anywhere." The Doctor commanded.

"There's no way we could find our way back now; the mist is too thick." Jack uttered.

"Tosh, is the air-field still extended?" The Doctor turned to her.

"I don't know how to turn it off, so yes, it should be." She answered.

The Doctor was out of the door before she could say anymore, and before the TARDIS could object to his actions. He was immediately overwhelmed by the darkness of the Torchwood Hub and how green the serum actually was. He'd been injected with it a million times before, but it was now that he noticed the actual colour of it. The only light around was the light being emitted from the TARDIS doors by the interior.

"Ignorance is a funny thing." An unfamiliar male voice rang about from the Doctor's left.

He instinctively tensed from the sudden noise, and the fear worsened when he realized he was in a very vulnerable state. He turned back to the TARDIS doors – back to safety – but he discovered Professor Simpson was leaning against it, staring the Doctor down as if he were filth on a child.

"Although, I do admit, you've never been _that_ ignorant." Cassandra in the Professor's body started a slow stroll towards the Timelord, with her/his arms crossed. "Always knew how to find what he needed to find, just before death was imminent."

"Platform One." The Doctor echoed, remembering Jabe and the deaths of many people he'd prevented with only seconds to spare.

"Oh yes, Platform One! Your first adventure with Blondie." He/she paused to smirk. "Where is that feisty Rose now, hm?" Cassandra asked.

The Doctor felt the pang of guilt course through his veins that was triggered by Cassandra still growing in his head. He reached up to rub his brow, hoping that'd show her that he knew.

"And you catch on fast, too!" He/she exclaimed rather loudly, making the Doctor jump. "I was surprised to find you had barely any mental defences at dinner that night." He/she continued. "So getting in was easy."

"So get out." The Doctor couldn't bring himself to look the dead man in the eyes – when he did, the gruesome torture sessions floated to the surface of his memory.

"But what fun would that be?" He/she continued with a curling, feminine giggle. "Your Timelord mind is so frail…" Cassandra trailed off and suddenly, images of the Time War began to pop up.

The Doctor grabbed his head with his hands, entwining his fingers throughout his hair, in a pleading motion for Cassandra to stop.

"I could get you to believe pretty much anything." He/she continued, the dreadful images still fluctuating to the surface of his memory. "I even got you to shoot that new collectable of yours." He/she was suddenly right in the Doctor's face, grinning madly. "What was her name again? Marina? Marion?" Cassandra paused to fiddle with her short hair. "Something beginning with 'm'?"

"My name is Martha." The Doctor was relieved to discover Torchwood Three had found the TARDIS. "And you, Cassandra, are under unrest for human… uh… Timelord torture." The Doctor's eyes went to follow Cassandra's gaze to Martha Jones, pointing a loaded gun at the Professor's chest.

The Doctor was glad that the memories of the Time War had settled back in their place in his memory – behind the red door he forever kept locked. Though he wasn't so glad to find Martha poised with a gun in her hand, and even more not glad to find she was pointing it at someone who he wanted so badly to convince life wasn't as bad as it looked and she could start over.

Jack was suddenly hauling the Doctor to his feet – he hadn't realized he had fallen to his knees, he was too busy watching Gallifrey burn – and away from Cassandra.

The Doctor suddenly got an overwhelming urge to steal Jack's gun and point it straight at Martha. He knew it was Cassandra, and he reassured himself that the Last Human wasn't getting what she wanted.

And then suddenly the Doctor was breathing in serum. He coughed – it tasted bitter – and Torchwood Three turned to him in alarm. The air-field the TARDIS had been conjuring up was now gone and the serum poured into the TARDIS's open doors. The Doctor, in alarm and still coughing, ran to pull the doors closed so Toshiko would be as safe as she could be. But that act rendered Torchwood Three's building in almost complete darkness by the haze.

"Oh Doctor, you're so gullible…" The Professor's voice mocked from the darkness. "Even to a point where I could call you completely ignorant, but of course, we've already had that conversation." He/she paused to giggle again. "But telling the TARDIS to shut off the air-field, knowing it was the only thing keeping you safe? Now that's _really_ ignorant."

"Show yourself!" Jack yelled out of the darkness, and in turn making the Doctor jump and grab onto the TARDIS doorframe to reassure himself it was only Jack.

The Doctor fumbled around his pockets for the sonic, knowing with it he could intensify the lighting and make seeing a little easier. But to no avail; he couldn't find it and was almost certain Cassandra had it on him/her.

As if almost on cue she went and gallivanted, "I wouldn't bother looking for your screwdriver, I've got it. Took it from you when Adam drugged you with that handkerchief."

"What do you want, Cassandra?" The Doctor asked the question he'd been meaning to ask for the past five months.

"Well, firstly, I want that TARDIS of yours so I can stop myself from becoming a trampoline." Cassandra began. "And secondly, I wanted to invent a weakness for you and sort of… I don't know…" He/she paused to giggle. "Sell it? Sell it to people who've been loathing you for a long time – I don't know, what do you think Doctor? Should I sell it or give it away?"

"I think you're sick." An unnecessary comment from Jack and a grunt of approval from someone the Doctor ceased to identify by their voice alone.

"And thing is, it can really be used against anything!" Cassandra continued, ignoring Jack's comment. "Timelords, humans, Sontarans, Judoon, you name it!" The Doctor could just imagine him/her rubbing his/her hands together.

"You've what you wanted; you made me pay for what I did you all those years ago." The Doctor started up again. "Please Cassandra, please, you're the Last Human. Don't let the bars of humanity be set so low… You're better than this. Back on New Earth you did so well – you helped me save all those people and then in return I helped you."

"You stood and watched while I shrivelled on Platform One." Cassandra stated.

"You tortured me for five months straight without suffering a single scratch." The Doctor retorted. "I think we're even."

"Doctor, you can't be serious?" Jack exclaimed from beside him, and once again, he jumped at the sudden sound.

"I can't guarantee you won't be jailed for what you did to me, Cassandra, but _I'm_ willing to let it go if you let go first."

"If I had to pick between corrupting the Doctor to kill all his friends and enslaving humanity, or a life almost guaranteed in prison, I know what I would pick." Cassandra cooed.

That was when the Doctor, his body so bashed from the torture he'd barely recovered from and his mind only just scabbed over, collapsed to the ground in utter agony. The scab over his mind was easily picked away by Cassandra convulsing inside his head. He let out a scream, unable to keep it in any longer, as he was certain his head was about to explode.

The pain… It was like having your head set on fire and then being thrown into a furnace that was one hundred thousands times hotter. The Doctor had been mind-controlled forcefully before, but Cassandra wasn't being anywhere close to gentle about it. She made sure she touched every single pain lobe, and that every single painful memory was drawn to the surface as she engulfed his mind in her own.

He was aware of people touching him, trying to coax him into fighting Cassandra's firm grasp on his mind. He was even aware of the fact many of them had removed their gas masks in an attempt to soothe him further. The TARDIS was fighting too – fighting Cassandra to ensure her Timelord wasn't going to be corrupted by her. But the Last Human had already been in his head for too long. Pulling her away now would mean also tearing the Doctor's mind out of his own body.

As the battle raged on inside his head, the whole time he was screaming, writhing on the floor as a maniac laughter slowly echoed around the Torchwood Hub. Cassandra had already won the battle, but still, the TARDIS fought on and his friends continued to soothe him physically.

That was until he could take the pain no more and lost his grasp on reality. He knew passing out would mean shutting the TARDIS out, which lead to one painful realization.

He was going to die here.


	7. Against All Odds

_**A/N: I can't express to you how evil I felt writing this chapter. I was tearing up halfway through, getting past companion feels and memories from Rose's time at the Doctor's side. Though, that is probably just me. xD I know I'm one for cliff-hangers and I hope this one tops your lot. Because it's a big one. And I bet you're wondering how the Doctor is going to weasel himself out of this sticky situation.**_

_**Yes, but, away from me discussing future chapters! xD This is chapter seven of my try at Doctor whump and so far I'm actually quite proud of it. Do you like it? Do you think it's legit? I'm going to struggle ending it because there's a matter of finding the suitable ending point, haha.**_

_**And please (I'm being review happy here) review! I can't tell you how happy I am when I get an email alert saying someone has reviewed TT. It means my writing is actually legit and means something to someone! Still the favs and alerts are awesome but reviews are just gold. Review happy or not, we all love getting reviews. :)**_

_**I'll stop rambling now and leave you to read. Enjoy chapter seven! (and don't hunt me down afterwards!)**_

* * *

_As the battle raged on inside his head, the whole time he was screaming, writhing on the floor as a maniac laughter slowly echoed around the Torchwood Hub. Cassandra had already won the battle, but still, the TARDIS fought on and his friends continued to soothe him physically._

_That was until he could take the pain no more and lost his grasp on reality. He knew passing out would mean shutting the TARDIS out, which lead to one point of certainty - he was going to die here. _

Through Martha and Owen's eyes, it appeared the Doctor was having a seizure. Jack was holding him down, trying to calm the Timelord's convulsing body.

"Jack – hold his mouth shut. He'll bite his tongue off." Martha told the immortal man.

He did as he was told, placing two firm hands over the Doctor's mouth to ensure nothing happened to his tongue. Torchwood Three had found the Doctor in a mess, but nothing compared to what the poor Timelord was going through now. He had had barely any time to recover from the torture he'd received from this woman, and he still took it upon himself to not speak up if he was hurting.

What angered Jack even further was that the Timelord was most determined to let go what Cassandra had done to him so very easily, in exchange for the woman to let go of her anger. How could he do that? He'd been reduced to skin and bone by her for reasons of her pleasure only. Cassandra had longed to invent a weakness to the Doctor for solely revenge purposes and now it was more than obvious she had succeeded. Not only by creating the mist around them – which the Doctor had dully referred to as 'the serum' – which apparently stopped wounds from closing up but by forcing herself into the Doctor's mind and making him believe things that weren't actually real – shooting Martha being a prime example.

She'd tortured him, making sure he knew his friends were never going to come for him. She'd tortured him to create this horrible 'serum' that could easily eradicate whole civilizations. And now, as if to top the list, she was killing him by taking over his body. And the Doctor was only moments ago telling Cassandra he was able to just let it go.

"Doctor?" A shaky-voiced Martha brought him back from his deep thought. "Oh god Jack, he stopped moving." She sniffed, since her nose was blocked from that fact she'd been crying. "I don't know what to do!"

"Pulse, Martha, find a pulse." Owen appeared to be the calmest of all the onlookers, kneeling next to the Doctor also.

Torchwood's medic soon had his two fingers poised on the Doctor's neck since Martha had been reduced to tears again.

Jack found himself holding her to his chest tightly, and she'd pressed her head into his shoulder to try escape the reality that was so unfortunately real. Jack noticed she'd removed her gas mask – the only thing keeping her safe – as well as Owen. Jack subconsciously removed his, feeling the act was a sign of respect to the possibly dead man on the floor.

"He's still alive." Owen stated, and Martha slightly relaxed in Jack's arms.

"Who's in control?" Jack asked, and he felt Martha tense up in his grip again at the question. "Owen, don't get too close now, we can't be sure…" He gestured for him to move away, just in case Cassandra was in charge.

"Oh god Jack, she tried to kill him…" Martha kept raving in the tight embrace and Jack would shush her and gently rock back and forth. "He was all alone for five months and we weren't there to help him…"

"We found him eventually." Jack was surprised to hear Ianto speak to Martha. "And he was doing so well until this happened. You can't blame yourself, Miss Jones."

"T-thank you." She stammered in the direction of the other Jones in the room.

A silence then swirled between everyone, since all were unsure of what to do or what to say to one another.

"Gwen, do you have handcuffs on you?" Jack asked suddenly, out of the blue.

"Just because I'm a cop, it doesn't mean –"

"I'll take that as a no, then." He interrupted. "Does _anyone_ have handcuffs on them?" He turned to what he could see of Torchwood Three.

He got only reluctant shakes of the head in return. He looked up to the TARDIS for assistance, and was most pleased to discover a pair of handcuffs attached to the handle of the door. The TARDIS knew what Jack wanted to do. One ring was already attached to the handle, and the other was open, waiting to be fastened around the Doctor's wrist.

Gwen followed Jack's gaze eventually and realized what he wanted to do. Jack had Martha surgically attached to him – she had her arms around his torso and her head buried into his shoulder. He had one hand wrapped around her, and the other stroking her hair. He didn't particularly want to leave the position – Martha had needed reassurance for a while now, but she put on her doctor face and never admitted it openly. In some ways, she was worse than the Doctor himself at admitting she was in pain.

Ever so gently – it was Gwen, after all – the Doctor was dragged to the door of the TARDIS by Gwen tugging at his forearms. She'd set his arms on the ground, grabbed one of the rings, grabbed one of his wrists, and then fastened the ring around his wrist. It clicked shut and she suddenly had a key in her hand that fit perfectly into the lock.

"What about Tosh?" Owen raised the question, since she was still inside the TARDIS.

"She's smart." Jack answered. "She would have figured it out and stayed where she was."

"Jack, you can let go of me now." Jack hadn't realized Martha had long since let go.

He'd been quite happy sitting there on the ground, holding his Nightingale and stroking her hair to assure her everything was going to be fine. Reluctantly, he took his arms from around and used them to push himself to his feet. He then offered a hand to Martha, and she was then on her feet as well.

Torchwood Three stood in silence for several minutes – everybody was unsure of what to do. Everyone had removed their gas masks in what Jack assumed to be a sign of reverence towards the broken Timelord. They all watched his still body, waiting for any sign of movement, and waiting to find out who had won the mental battle.

And then suddenly, the Doctor's eyes fluttered open and then drooped shut, apparently too heavy to keep open. Then they snapped wide open again, well aware of the fact whoever was inside the Timelord's body was still alive and had won. Whoever it was examined their features and grinned.

"I didn't actually think it would work!" They exclaimed gleefully.

The next second, Jack had his gun raised in apparently-Cassandra's direction. At least, that was the assumption everyone in the room had made.

"Put your gun down, pretty boy." It sounded funny coming from the Doctor's mouth. "You can shoot the Doctor all you like but he's got plenty of regenerations to spare." Cassandra then put a hand to the Doctor's mouth. "Oh, that's right!" She gestured to the mist around them. "He can't regenerate now. How unfortunate."

"Get out of his body." Jack commented.

"Shoot me, then." Cassandra held the Doctor's hands up in surrender, but then was distracted. "I would have thought his mind to be more…" She trailed off to prod her new chin. "Bubbly." She finished. "He's actually quite sad inside his head. Very good at hiding it, too."

"Cassandra, I'm Captain Jack Harkness, and I'm ordering you to get out of the Doctor's body right now." Jack commanded, still with his gun cocked in the Doctor's direction.

"But I _am_ the Doctor, Captain Jack Harkness." She responded. "I took over his mind, as well as his body. Rather than compressing his consciousness I'm covering it up… Like an unwanted car in a garage." She paused. "Getting out of his body would mean taking him with me, and if you insist I'll happily go inhabit somebody else…"

"Tell us how to separate you. Right now." Jack continued with the same tone of voice – serious and absolutely dead-set on achieving what he wanted.

"But where's the fun in that?" She whined, tugging at the handcuffs impatiently. "The Doctor got what he wanted. I'm happy because I'm a Timelord and I'm about to become very, very rich." She smiled happily. "That's what he wanted, wasn't it? He wants people to be happy." She seemed unsure.

"We're not happy." Martha said gravely.

"Who cares what you all think?" Cassandra asked. "I'm the Timelord. You can all bow to me." She paused and her face seemed to register surprise. "He's been playing around with that idea for a while. 'Timelord Victorious' is what he calls it. He's the sole survivor and now he makes the rules."

"What are you talking about?" Martha questioned. "The Doctor never wants to be superior. He just does what he does and then goes quietly on his way."

"You're not the one inside his head right now." Cassandra retorted.

"So get out." Martha almost pleaded. "Please. You tortured him and you got what you wanted, so please just let us have him back." She looked Cassandra in the eyes – or more or less the Doctor's eyes – as she pleaded.

"Oh…" Cassandra seemed to be distracted. "He's so alone. He watched it burn and he cried so much from the doors of the TARDIS." Tears were suddenly leaking from the Doctor's eyes. "He lost his wife, his children, his friends. He lost everything and that wall of guilt refuses to go away, even when he's trying his best to knock it down."

"Cassandra…" Jack started.

"Jack! Captain Jack – the man that can never die. How much he admires you. He thinks he doesn't deserve you. He's constantly worried about you but you're one of the most important people he's ever met." Cassandra paused. "He loves you to pieces and he knows you're returning the feeling without question."

Martha gave Jack a sideways glance – Cassandra's takeover wasn't going as she'd planned. Jack seemed to be transfixed in what Cassandra was saying, as if he were shocked to hear it come from the Timelord's mouth.

"And the wonderful Martha Jones." Martha turned to look at the pathetic image which was the Doctor, crumped against the doors of the TARDIS, handcuffed and completely breaking down. "He would be dead without you. He knows you admire him and it guilts him to know he can't return the feelings. He tried loving a human once, long ago, but she's lost and can never return…" Cassandra let out a big sob. "He loves how you care. No one has ever cared for him like that before. He'd be nowhere without you. He'd be swimming in his own remorse."

"You don't have to see any more, Cassandra…" Jack once again tried to coax the woman into stopping. "Just leave his mind. End it now."

"His wonderful Rose Tyler…" The words escaped his lips in barely a whisper, ignoring Jack. "She lit up his world like nobody else. He was shattered and she slowly picked up the pieces with him, sealing the final crack with a kiss that they never go to share."

Martha found herself tearing up – although it wasn't the Doctor's words, it was so heartfelt.

"She always cared. Rose always cared, but in some ways more than others." Cassandra continued. "She never asked personal questions and he was never prepared to answer them, so he was glad she did. She was always there to comfort him, to tell him it was okay. Because sometimes he just couldn't take it. The world became too much and all he needed was a hug from his Rose Tyler." Cassandra paused for apparent effect. "She was the Big Bad Wolf. She absorbed the time vortex." Cassandra seemed to laugh. "Humans aren't meant to do that."

Martha found herself in Jack's arms again, tears leaking freely from her eyes. Jack was also crying and was doing a very bad job at hiding it. Martha couldn't see the rest of Jack's Torchwood team in the darkness, but she could only assume they were touched by this outburst too.

"He needs people to make him feel whole again." Cassandra was still. "He just wants to die and put an end to all the pain. But humans remind him there's something worth living for. Humans bring love and friendship in their wake, but they never have happy endings."

Martha shuddered in Jack's arms. She couldn't help but wonder – had Jack had a happy ending with the Doctor? She also wondered to how she'd leave the Timelord… Would she die? Surely it was a possibility…

"Please Jack, make the pain stop…" Cassandra was now pleading, the Doctor's face red from crying and his body shaking from the sobs that still racked his frail frame.

"I don't know how." Jack's tone confirmed he was crying – it was high-pitched and he could barely get it out.

"P-please…"

Cassandra probably hadn't foreseen this when she planned on taking over the Doctor's mind. She probably bargained on TARDIS flight and destroying the universe; not sobbing over memories that weren't even hers.

She'd most likely evoked all these memories and feelings in the torture sessions and they were still fresh. He'd barely recovered from what she'd done to him and now she was suffering because of it. In a way, it seemed completely fair. But all those terrible memories and depressing emotions weren't her burden to carry. That was the Doctor's choice. As much as Jack hated it, it was the Doctor's choice to keep everything bottled up inside. And Cassandra had broken that bottle.

"I feel w-warm…" The statement was out of place.

"You feel warm?" Martha questioned.

That was when the would-be-doctor noticed, between her tears, the Doctor's body had an eerie yellow glow to it. She wasn't sure if it was a trick of the poor light they had, or the tears glistening in her eyes. But it seemed to light up the room and now she could see the faces of Torchwood Three. Everyone had been crying. And Martha hadn't noticed Toshiko enter, tears now dripping down her face, just by the TARDIS entrance.

Martha didn't know what the yellow glow meant, but she felt Jack tense from beside her.

Cassandra on the other hand was gazing at her body in wonder. She could see the warm glow coming from everywhere and it was the strangest sensation. She felt so warm, so relaxed, so _sleepy_…

"Oh God." Jack uttered ultimately.

"What?" Martha and Cassandra asked in unison.

"You said he wanted to die." Jack said, recalling what was said a matter of minutes ago. "He's dying right now."

"What do you mean he's dying?" Martha asked in alarm.

"He's regenerating." Jack breathed, and then took a step back, prompting Toshiko to do the same. "I didn't know he could do it voluntarily."

"Regeneration." The name sounded familiar on Martha's lips. "He mentioned it to me a long time ago…" She paused to think of what it meant.

"He's going to change." Jack settled her suspicions. "He's going to change his face and his personality, and hopefully kick Cassandra out in the process." Everyone turned to look at the glowing Timelord.

"H-help me…" Cassandra said weakly, the glow become more profound each passing second.

Jack took another step back, and everyone else did the same. He could only watch as the yellow glow slowly consumed the Doctor's whole body and Cassandra started to whimper.

"Please d-don't let me d-die…"

"I'm sorry Cassandra." Jack said. "But you bought this upon yourself."

Jack didn't want the Doctor to regenerate. He wanted the Doctor to come _back._ He didn't want to go through the dramatic changes again. He knew Martha would probably get left behind like he did on Satellite 5. The Doctor would move on without any hesitation and leave poor Martha Jones to adjust to normal life back on Earth, whilst he fled to the stars with a new companion. It was like people recycling, and it was horrible.

Jack once again wrapped his arms around the would-be-doctor, mentally assuring himself it would be alright in the end. The Doctor is always alright. The Doctor always makes it through.

Cassandra then whimpered again, and Jack could only shield his eyes as the Doctor's body erupted into a mass of yellow and orange flames.


	8. Forgive and Forget

_**A/N: Okay, I'm not that cruel. I won't leave you hanging. But be warned this chapter won't answer all your questions and I still haven't finished. But hopefully it'll allow you to make more sense of why the Doctor regenerated and what happened to Cassandra. And thank you to PotterheadWhovian7 for pointing out what they did. :)**_

_**But enjoy chapter eight. Please enjoy chapter eight. xD I promise I'll answer any questions you post in reviews and try to fix them up asap. I'd appreciate it so much. :)**_

* * *

_Jack once again wrapped his arms around the would-be-doctor, mentally assuring himself it would be alright in the end. The Doctor is always alright. The Doctor always makes it through._

_Cassandra then whimpered again, and Jack could only shield his eyes as the Doctor's body erupted into a mass of yellow and orange flames._

* * *

Jack wondered to himself – Cassandra had said the serum would stop the Doctor regenerating. Obviously she had been wrong, since right now he was doing exactly that. Or maybe the mist was clearing and wearing off, since the room was considerably lighter, although that was probably the residual energy from the Doctor.

And then the light stopped, and they were plunged into darkness once again.

"Doctor?" Martha immediately cried, rushing to where she last saw the TARDIS.

Jack tried to keep hold of her, in case she tripped and fell, but she was gone before he could grasp her arm and pull her back.

"M-Martha?" A weak voice wallowed its way through the darkness, and Jack recognized it as the Doctor's.

Did he change? He sounded the same.

"Where are you? Are you okay?"

"M-my head…"

Yes, that was almost certainly the Doctor's tenth incarnation and his voice. Jack was puzzled – the man had regenerated against all of odds – and apparently voluntarily – but still he had managed to keep his tenth voice. Maybe he'd finally learned to gain control and remained the same?

The doors opened to the TARDIS to reveal Martha crouching by the Doctor. Jack discovered to his amazement the Doctor still looked exactly the same. So what happened?

"Gwen, can I have the handcuff key?" Martha asked, and Gwen stepped forward to remove the ring from around the Doctor's wrist.

"It might still be her." Owen said dryly. "She might be acting."

The Doctor then mumbled something that was clearly not English very quietly, to confirm he was actually the Doctor and Cassandra was gone.

"Maybe not." Owen shrunk back, embarrassed.

Martha and Gwen soon had the Doctor supported and were walking him into the TARDIS. Torchwood Three followed. The mist around them was no longer flowing into the TARDIS, which was a good sign. As soon as Jack was inside, the doors slammed shut and the dematerialization noise echoed around the console room.

* * *

**_Minutes earlier …_**

_Cassandra, you don't have to see any more. It pains me as much as it pains you, and the longer you're here the stronger it gets… It's a defence mechanism. It's normal and you're suffering because of it._

_H-how do I stop it?_

_Regenerate._

_What?_

_Regenerate. Allow my body to build up with residual energy so it will push you out._

_B-but you can't… The serum stops energy build up._

_You'd be surprised how much residual energy I can build up, and I can tell you, a stupid gas that stops wounds from closing up won't get you very far. It may stop immediate regeneration, so I'm dead for a couple of minutes, but then the build-up will become so strong that it just has to happen, or my body will burn from the inside out._

_It's impossible, Doctor… Y-you won't be able to regenerate here. The serum s-stops it. Please believe me._

_The TARDIS will help us. She's inside your head, and she's not very happy. She wants you out. So she'll help us build up lots of residual energy to trigger a voluntary regeneration._

_But you can't…_

_Watch me, Cassandra. If it doesn't work then I guess we're stuck like this. And neither the TARDIS nor myself appreciates being tucked away to one side in our own mind._

_O-okay. What do I do?_

_First of all, stop blubbering out my life story. And then just focus on dying. Tell yourself you want to die. You want to die right this very moment._

_Won't you die too?_

_Only you. You're in control of me. I'm separated from my body and part of my mind now, so once you're gone I can come back._

_I'm going to die if I do this?_

_I can see inside your head too, Cassandra. We're both old and tired. We both just want to die so we can stop all the suffering. You've been alive past your time and you've seen more than you want to see. I want to save you, but you don't want to be saved and I can see it._

_Will it hurt?_

_If you do it properly, it won't hurt._

_Won't you change your face? The first time I met you, you had barely any hair. And now you're younger and have lots of hair._

_Don't worry about that. I'll control it._

_But you said you're separated._

_Once you start it, I can finish it. Once it's started you'll start to get pushed out, and I can start to seep back in and take control again._

_I feel w-warm…_

_So I heard. Jack knows what's going on. I'm sorry it came to this Cassandra, I'm so sorry. You don't deserve to be burdened with my memories._

_Doctor._

_Yes Cassandra?_

_I think you're amazing._

_Thank you?_

_You can live with all this pain and guilt. I had to go and make you suffer to live with mine. You've never hurt anyone before. How do you do it?_

_You're almost there, Cassandra, I can feel my fingers now…_

_Doctor._

_I don't do it. You've been wondering why I like humans so much. Humans are so loving and they remind me you don't always have to worry about what's bothering you. It's easier just to smile and get on with your life. You told everyone that yourself, so you should know._

_I'm sorry…_

_Don't be sorry. I'm not angry at you. It was wrong to leave you for dead on Platform One and I've paid the price for it. We're even._

_Yes… Even…_

_I don't want you to die thinking I hate you._

_You have every right to hate me…_

_But I don't._

_I'll never understand you… It's getting so dark._

_You're almost there. Just a few more seconds and it'll be all over. I can see now. I can see and once you're gone I can stop before I change._

_You're a remarkable man, Doctor. I don't understand how you beat the serum or how you can let your torture go so easily._

_… Goodbye, Cassandra._

_Goodbye Doctor._

And then to the Doctor's demesne, it was dark again. He blinked several times and then ran his free hand through his hair. To his relief it was still spiky, which meant he hadn't regenerated just yet. His teeth felt the same and his body ached from the residual energy.

"Doctor?" He recognized it as Martha's voice, and he could hear her stumbling in the dark to find him.

"M-Martha?" He discovered he had his voice back.

_"_Where are you? Are you okay?" Typical Martha – the residual energy will help his injuries to heal up faster so he'll be fine.

"M-my head…" He groaned, realizing the forced psychological entry and forced regeneration had given him a massive headache.

The headache wasn't like before, when Cassandra was growing inside his head. This headache confirmed the Last Human was gone and had been plainly ripped out of his head by the excess residual energy the TARDIS and he had built up.

_Open the doors so she can find us, old girl. It's dark out here._

_I'm so glad to hear your voice again, Theta._

"Gwen, can I have the handcuff key?" Martha had finally spotted her shattered Timelord.

Oh, yes, that's right. He was handcuffed to the TARDIS. Jack always had wonderful ideas. Gwen then eased the ring off his wrist and it fell to his side. Blood rushed to the offended wrist. He hadn't noticed it was numb from lack of circulation.

"It might still be her." The Doctor heard Torchwood's medic mutter. "She might be acting."

The Doctor took this moment to mumble, "After almost killing myself, you humans still doubt me." in Gallifreyan quietly.

"Maybe not." Owen shrunk back, obviously embarrassed by his mistake.

The Doctor soon had two arms around Martha and Gwen's shoulders and he was safely inside the TARDIS. Some of the serum had gotten in, but she'd obviously gone and turned on the ventilation fans to clear the console room.

_I'm going to take you home, Theta._

_Where is home?_

_I'm sure you have a pretty good idea where home is by now._

The TARDIS dematerialized and the Doctor had a pretty good idea where they were going. The TARDIS eventually shuddered to a stop and the Doctor staggered to his feet, much to Martha and Owen's protests. The TARDIS didn't object. She nudged him along as he laid his hand on the door handle.

The Doctor pulled open the door and immediately his lips curled into a smile. He looked back at Martha and Torchwood Three, still smiling. They all returned it and they came down to see where they were.

_I don't know where I'd be without you, dear._

Because of course, the Doctor was looking over Earth from space. Earth was his home. Gallifrey was gone and now Earth was the second-best place.

"You should all grab some sleep." He announced to Torchwood Three. "The TARDIS seems to like all of you so she'll show you where you can sleep."

They all dispatched, glad of the offer the Doctor had made them. Apart from Martha. Martha slipped her hand into the Doctor's and squeezed it tightly as they looked over Earth.

"And you, mister, are going to be sleeping where I can see you tonight." She said firmly.

"I'll be fine, Martha." He reassured her.

"We both know that's a lie." Martha smiled. "You're coming to the med-bay with me and I'm going to run some tests." She tugged him back towards the console, and then down one of the corridors the TARDIS indicated.

"You have to sleep too." The Doctor objected as he was pulled along.

"I'm almost a doctor." Martha retorted. "Being tired is nothing new." She reminded him with a smile as she turned into the med-bay.

Martha gathered some equipment she identified as human when she entered, leaving the Doctor to lie down on the bed. She knew he wasn't okay. He still had a long way to go before he was the Doctor again.

"Now…" She started, deciding to pick up the stethoscope first. "Are we experiencing any pain, Mr Smith?" She turned to him, glad to be mentioning the old joke, but she found he was asleep.

She set the stethoscope down reluctantly, still feeling concerned about him as he lay there completely still. She brushed his fringe back with her fingers gently as she looked over his sleeping form.

"I think you deserve this one." She told him.

She was aware he only slept in the Torchwood Hub because his body had forced him into a healing coma. She'd done a little bit of reading when he was missing, but nothing more. This was the first actual sleep he'd had since he was rescued. Martha was sure he'd been running on adrenaline these past few hours and when he woke up they'd be back on square one. But she could live with that.

"Patient troubles?" Jack had appeared in the doorway, smiling at her and the Doctor with his arms crossed.

"He deserves some rest." Martha said.

"He deserves to rest more than any of us." Jack stated. "He wasn't ready to do what he did today, and I'm surprised he's still in one piece." He smiled slightly. "You better be ready to take care of him, Martha Jones."

"I'm more than prepared." Martha told him. "And what happens now? The Hub is full of deadly serum." She remembered.

"Nothing a couple of ventilation fans can't take care of." Jack flipped open his vortex manipulator and pressed a couple of buttons. "We can head back tomorrow morning." He said with a smile.

"I still don't understand how he regenerated and didn't change." Martha uttered, finding herself in the doorway too, watching the Doctor sleep.

"He'll be able to answer that himself, I hope." Jack didn't have any answers either. "Just give him time." Jack turned to Martha and held his arms out, obviously showing he wanted a hug.

Martha smiled at his offer and took up the offer. Jack hugged her tightly, but not as tenderly as he did in the Hub before.

"Goodnight, Martha Jones." Jack said in her ear.

"See you in the morning, Captain Jack Harkness." Martha responded in the same fashion and then Jack was gone, walking down the hallway towards where the TARDIS had chosen his room.

Martha still had plenty of questions. She wanted to know how he had regenerated in the mist, and where Cassandra had gone. She wanted to know who Adam Mitchell and Cassandra had been and what they meant to the Doctor. Most of all, she wanted to know if what Cassandra had told her was true. Did the Doctor know she admired him?

"I love you, Doctor." Martha whispered, before flicking out the lights and collapsing on the closest chair.

* * *

_**PS. Hey! You made it to the end! There was a sequel for this but I deleted it after much debate with myself - the writing was bad and I wasn't happening with the turn the piece had taken or the way I decided to write it when I was posting. If you want to read it hit me up a PM and I'll see to sending it to you through the document exchange. Thanks! :)**_


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